


I Am His Queen

by ArreisofAvalon



Series: Servant of Queen [2]
Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: But definitely inspired by that song, Depression, F/M, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Sequel, Song: Still Alive, Suicidal Thoughts, The one she loved died, not a song fic, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-08-11 21:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArreisofAvalon/pseuds/ArreisofAvalon
Summary: After the death of Eacko, Queen Chrysalis struggles to reconcile the feelings inside her, as well as the disputes with Equestria after her failed invasion.(Originally published on FiMFiction.net on June 20th, 2015.)





	1. Prologue: Grief

One time, long, long ago, there lived a young changeling in the Bad Lands. He came to love a Queen so elegant and gorgeous, all changelings envied her beauty. No magic could stop their love; no spell ever thought of could achieve what they felt. Not even the sting of death could bring about their end.

But all love comes with pain. The queen was blind to the joy around her until it was too late. The young changeling had loved her all his life but could never express that. They were changelings separated by cruel fate. The queen was raised to rule with absolute power, showing no weaknesses. The changeling drone was nothing more than that; a servant of the queen.

He longed for her, always. He rose in station until he stood next to her as a guard; he vowed to always protect her. Even if all of Equestria were to turn against her, he would be there to keep her safe. Just to see her smile. Just for her warmth. Just for her hopeful love.

Yet she never understood this. She cast him away on missions, trusting him even as she did not understand why. She focused solely on her duties, never once considering there may be something more for her, just waiting until she made her move. She never caught on.

She sent him on one fateful mission. A mission to go to Canterlot; a mission that would lead to an invasion; a mission that would result in his death.

He experienced much there. He learned to truly love. She joined him and slowly began to learn as well. But, by the time she truly learned, by the time she had known of his love, he was dead and gone. Her love died.

He sacrificed himself, just for her sake. For her to survive, he laid down his life - his love - for eternity. She watched his final breaths. She felt her concrete, cruel heart beating. Each beat brought pain; each memory, misery.

Now that Queen lives with that pain each day. She lives in remembrance of her true love, in remembrance of that pony whom she can never embrace. She was never able to embrace or caress or show her affection, but through a single kiss. She will wear that kiss for all of her days.

The young changeling’s name was Eacko. The Queen’s name is Chrysalis.

This is the story of how their love changed the lives of millions.

It all started with a kiss.


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I know is grief. All I know is pain. Why would he do this to me, before... right before?
> 
> I need to save him.
> 
> I _will_ save my love.

I cry out as he runs from me. He couldn’t leave just like that. Not right after that kiss! Not when I feel like this. What even _is_ ‘this’? It feels so strange, as though I'm a drone having their first taste of love; is that what this is? Love?

I shut my eyes tightly. I’m sure it is - love. Changeling love. Impossible! But I'm here, feeling it. It had to be real if I feel this way. This... This way! I can't describe it.

I'm so confused. Tears roll down my face as I think of all I just gained, everything I had just lost. I feel full and empty all at the same time. My heart is aching, but I can't even express to myself why it does!

A queen does not express weakness over failure. A queen does not express dread over a consequence. A queen does not express sorrow over a mere drone's imminent death.

_But he isn't just a drone!_ I grit my teeth as old memories wash over me, ones I thought I had locked away long ago. Memories of playing games with a young changeling; memories of watching the guard exam and seeing him succeed; memories of him talking with me after I came to Canterlot - everything came flooding back.

"You there!" I gasp, opening my eyes. A guard is running my way.

Instincts kicked in. I stand stock still, waiting for him to reach me. I quickly make sure my voice matches Eacko's, reviewing my escape tactics. Don't run. Pretend you're one of them. Don't do anything to arouse suspicion.

The guard reaches me, a spear at his side. "Identification, Sir."

I quickly reach into my scarf, taking out my ID. "W-what's going on," I ask, my voice trembling.

The guard analyzes my ID. He gives it back after a moment. "An incident involving beings from the Bad Lands. You don’t need to worry. Just get home and stay indoors.”

I nod. “Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief after the guard runs off to the next group of ponies. I wipe away my tears, trying to get some composure before somepony else sees me. I don’t want to warrant any further unwanted attention.

I take a deep breath and begin to run. It’s time to leave, at least for now. I drag my hooves - they feel full of lead, but I drag them along nonetheless and leave my love behind.

*~*~*~

I nearly collapse, panting, as I get out of Canterlot. Relatively speaking, of course. I am back in the caverns. They are almost like my home, but ...The crystals here are far more beautiful. At the very least, that is what Eacko told me.

_Eacko._ I shut my eyes tightly, my tears still falling. Why wouldn’t they stop? I had never cried much before; why now, of all times? Was it simply because of him? Why would one silly drone make me feel this way? He was hardly anything; just a hardworking changeling, one who had… who had protected me… all these years…

“How did I never notice,” I say softly. I open my eyes, seeing my love reflected back to me. His eyes are wide in disbelief at my failure to realize his love for me. How, in all those years we had been side by side, had I never seen the signs? I cry out to him in the crystals; “why did you never say anything?!” I swing my horn down, my horn beginning to spark jade light. "W-why now?! Why did I have t-to learn about this now!?"

I feel a lump in my throat. I can hardly breathe. "W-why!? WHY, EACKO!? WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS TO ME!?" In a mighty blast, my magic blasts away the crystal holding his reflection.

I stare at the broken shards as time seems to catch up with me. The world keeps spinning: but I am still standing still. “N-No, I’m not going to lose you now...” I sniffle, closing my eyes and sitting. "I... I love you... I love you, Eacko..."

The silence answers back. I rest my head on the floor and cry. Silence will never replace my love.

I simply weep. Hours, I cry. Even as my heart seems to calm and the tears start to dry, my throat goes dry and the cycle starts again. My entire body seems paralyzed even as I tremble and shake with every sob. Crying was weakness, I know, but what can I do to stop? Each breath I take to stabilize myself just gives my mind another chance to think of my loss.

All we could have had, had I not been so blind! I could have had love! Courting, loving, marriage… He and I could have sired children. We could have done the Changelings proud. Instead of that, I am left in agony now. Each breath brings a stab of pain to my heart.

But the hours drag on and I feel my tears begin to subside. I still sob, but I am spent now. No tears remain in me. I feel no relief from this fact; my body aches with the need to cry. I close my eyes and rest my head in my hooves.

I try to think of him. His stony faced demeanor around me, his armor, his eyes… Nothing is right in my memories. I try to separate him and the copy I now pretend to be, but there is no difference. I start to think more of the months I was in Canterlot, disguised. His laughter at my comments as we met in secret. Our secret lunches - just the two of us. His shining, happy eyes…

“W-why did you give up, Eacko? Why… f-for me....”

I gulp, trying to remove the lump from my throat without success. I had seen in his eyes that he thought my plan would fail, but he had followed me this whole time… All because he loved me. And now, here I ran, my tail between my legs like a startled Diamond Dog. Now I ran from the one changeling - the one pony whose presence has confused me to the point I have broken down sobbing. The pony whom I love.

I open my eyes again, standing on trembling hooves. “No… No, he will not d-die…” The word stumbles around in my mouth as I stay it. “H-He’s not dead yet! I-I can still save him!”

I start to pace, my breathing coming fast now. “I-I can go up to one of the guards! I can just change in front of the guards!”

_No, that won’t work and I know it. They’ll think I’m some desperate changeling trying to throw them off - which I am, but that’s besides the point._

“P-Perhaps I can discuss things with Celestia…”

_Not likely, after I hurt her as I did. Luna will be in charge at the moment, and she has every reason to hate me after the events of the past. There will be no help from the nocturnal princess._

“I-I can… I-I can save him, on the execution stand!”

_It’s a long shot. I would have to stay in Canterlot until his… until they tried to put him to death. I will almost certainly be discovered and brought to death._

But the more I think on the idea, the more appeal it has. If I stay, I can save him. I can bring him to the Bad Lands and we could stay together. He would be alive. And if I were caught, I would be killed, same as him. I would see my love there. I would be with him, forever.

I turn to the crystal around me, hardly noticing the wild desperation in my eyes - in his eyes. They were his eyes; he was watching over me, even now. “I-I will SAVE YOU! J-Just as you have saved me! Y-You’re not going to die… You’re not going to die…”

I repeat that under my breath as I sit again, biding my time. _I will see him again. I won’t let him die._

*~*~*~

I shake as I stand in the crowd. There is little love to be had around me, but I still stand strong and tall. Eacko’s love pours out, even now. I smile, albeit with a mad glint in my eye that I cannot see or feel. _I will save him_, I think to myself. _He will not die._

The bells start to chime and I jump as they do.

_Dong. Dong. Dong._

I still have not grown used to them in my time here. They are loud and obnoxious. Today, they are even worse; they mark my lover’s death. What would be his death, I mean, because he will not die. I will save him, obviously.

I shift my way through the crowd until I stand before the execution block. I gasp as the lump in my throat makes its presence known again; my eyes fall upon the Changeling Queen. Eacko.

He is smiling, but I can see the pain in his eyes. I wasn’t expecting that sorrow. I feel myself tense up as I see that sadness. He blindly looks at the audience around him, seeing nothing. He is blinded in his grief, that same pain I know perfectly. He knows he will never see me again, just as I know the same. These are our final moments, unless I can save him.

But I cannot.

My body is frozen and I feel tears rising to my eyes once again. I know not how they come to be, but the tears rise despite that.

“Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings, Ruler of the Bad Lands.”

I try not to jump as I hear my name. Fear suddenly grips my heart; Celestia. I keep my eyes focused on my love, too terrified to take her in once again. Her every atom breaths gracefulness, but I can feel the wrath locked away inside her. No queen - or princess - can have such power without anger. I gulp and center my eyes on my goal. Still, I delude myself. _I can save him._

“You have committed acts of treason to Equestria, and have harmed my subjects. This is a crime I cannot allow, and you must be punished. Yet, this form of punishment is one I wish to avoid with all my heart. You have requested beheading, despite my offers of sanctuary in Canterlot prisons. Please, I ask you, reconsider this action.”

_Requested?_ My ears perk up. _Why would he request death?_

“If it’s all the same to you, Celestia,” I hear my own voice reply, “I would never belittle myself to being trapped in your dungeons like a meager prisoner. You captured me, and I shall die by your hoof. It is as it has always been for my kind, and you would make a grave mistake to keep me locked away like a trophy.”

I know he is right in what he says, but his words shake me to the core. He is dying because my race demands that of me. Were I captured in his stead, I would say the same. Yet now, what I might have once found joy in only drives a dagger through my already wounded heart. Changeling law is now ripping my love away from me more than Equestria has. I am betrayed by not only my blindness, but my own race as well.

“Please, Chrysalis, we can negotia-“

“I wish not for petty negotiations. The Changeling empire will live long without me – for I know we can withstand the might of the Equestrian empire. We can stand strong on what remains.”

We can’t. I know we can’t. I cannot survive without him. I cannot live without him.

“Very well, Chrysalis. You have chosen your demise. But at your own hoof be it.”

_Now’s my chance!_ I steel myself in my plan. I will rescue him! I will save him from this fate, even if he thinks this fate is meant for him! I will love him! I love-

_Love._

I freeze in place, all thought of my mission lost. I am overwhelmed as I was before by love. It is strong and furious and burns with a passion hotter than Celestia’s sun. The world seems hazy and perhaps brighter than before. It all comes from the Changeling on the execution block. She sighs, but I see past it all.

I see him missing me. I see Eacko, thinking of me. Even now, on the execution block, he thinks more of me than himself. My tears are falling freely now, and I cannot move to stop them. His love has paralyzed me. I'm frozen in his great love. _I cannot save him._

He opens his eyes, and he stares right into my soul. He is smiling. He is crying as well, but I can feel the joy in each teardrop. He shuts his eyes in his happiness upon seeing me one final time. He takes a breath. He cries out.

“Goodbye, my lo-!”

_Slash._

I watch in horror as his tears fall, emotionless as his heart stops, to the wood below. They mingle with the blood he shed for me. My eyes are wide with disbelief.

I take a step back, the ringing of the Canterlot bells still sharp in my ears.

_Dong… Dong… Dong…_

My emotions numb. All my thoughts waver in and out. I know I must return home now. There is work to be done.

I watch as they drag away the lifeless corpse. I know it should have been me. My heart should have been that which stopped beating, not his. I should have died. I deserve it. It should have been me.

But it wasn’t.

I can’t deny that anymore.

“G-goodbye… Goodbye my.... my love…”


	3. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am enraged. With the ponies. With the council. With myself.
> 
> The nightmares do not help.

_I look around in terror. The world around me is so terribly bright. I should be used to this brightness after so long in Equestria, pretending to be that princess. I find myself completely thrown off by my surroundings, however._

_“Chrysie!” I jump at the nickname. I spin._

_Eacko._

_Tears run down my face in joy. How is he here? How is my love here? “E-Eacko… How are you… Why…” My questions fall flat. I cannot think while I am with him. I run forward to kiss him._

_I feel each movement we make. His heart beats faster as we both savour the kiss. He takes a breath through his nose and I can feel his chest rise. I feel the roughness of his lips - I don’t mind the roughness. I love it. It feels soft to me, as tender as he whom I kiss._

_I break away from him, smiling, my eyes shining. I take in every part of his body - his crooked horn, his silly goggles, that beaten up scarf. Lastly his eyes. His shining… sorrowful eyes._

_“E-Eacko?...”_

_“I know you can be a good queen,” he says, his voice echoing around me. My ears are suddenly pounding like that of a heartbeat. **Thump-ump. Thump-ump.**_

_“Eacko, w-what are you-”_

_“Now change! GO!”_

_His body morphs into mine, but his eyes stay the same. I am frozen in place. My eyes are wide with fear. I’m shaking, and my body feels warm and all too cold at the same time. My tears are no longer from joy. I try to speak, but no noise comes out. My heart is racing and I don’t know why. **Thum-umpThum-ump.**_

_“Go, Love! Run! CHANGE!”_

_I-I have changed! We both changed already! We took each others place! H-He took my place, I should have died!_

_“Save yourself, My Queen!” **Thump-um-umpThump-um-umpThump-um-ump!**_

_If only I could - I couldn’t even save you, Eacko! I can’t even save my own race!_

_“GOODBYE MY LO-”_

_The world goes red. Blood red. There is no light or shadow or the beat of a heart; my concrete heart has shattered and all that is left is the pain of separation. I will never see him again. I will never see my one true love again._

I wake, gasping, trying desperately to wipe the blood splatter from my body that is not there. I shift and turn in fright, my eyes wild, feeling as though my heart has stopped. I have to save Eacko! It is the only thought in my mind, my only goal. The changelings would be better without me - if I could only have Eacko.

My mind starts to calm itself from the nightmare. I feel tears falling down my chin to my cocoon, but I pay them no heed. I take a deep breath, unblinking, reviewing the facts.

Eacko is dead. My heart aches as I remember that fact, but it is beating once again. I am in my Palace, and not in Equestria. That was just part of the dream. That awful dream…

I take a deep breath. I am in my Palace. I am in the Bad Lands, in my Hive. I am safe. I am stoically doing my royal duties. I am meeting with the council today.

I groan, leaning back in my cocoon. I had forgotten about that little meeting. It was surely going to be dreadful, especially after my failure. Still, they would not go so far as to dethrone me. My race would simply mutter and grumble in the shadows about how awful I am. Little did they know I did the same.

I sigh, rubbing my head. The time was well nearing dawn, but not so close to the meeting that it would be feasible to wake yet. Yet, the thought of returning to that nightmare… I roll out of my cocoon with yet another sigh. Might as well get ready anyways. I would need to compose myself beforehoof either way.

I trot to the nearby window, looking out among the few changelings who mill about in the pre-dawn hours of the morning. Many are wounded, but thankfully, none seem to have died in the attack. None, other than…

Many of them know of Eacko’s sacrifice. None of them understand. Most every changeling here believes it should’ve been me there. They believe I should’ve been the one to die. They think Eacko didn’t deserve to die for a queen like me.

_They’re right._

I shut my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth. “No, they’re not,” I whisper to myself. “Eacko… H-He knew what he was doing. He… wanted me to live. He knew I could be a good queen. I know I-I can be a good queen.”

_Liar._ I growl to myself. _You’ve been lying to yourself ever since he died. You’re pathetic._

“I am NOT pathetic. I’m mourning.”

_But you’re not supposed to mourn. You’re the queen, aren’t you? You’re a changeling, aren’t you? You can’t mourn. You can’t even feel. So what are you, if you feel this way?_

I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I curse to myself and wipe them away quickly. Already? I don't usually start crying this early.

_Look at you. You’re miserable. You’re suffering. You're even keeping track of what TIME you cry now. What sort of queen is like you? What sort of queen puts a single measly drone above all of her subjects? What sort of queen lets some changeling take her rightful place?_

I hold my head tightly, trying to make the thoughts stop. They keep coming, every hour of every day. I can’t make them go away. I snarl, shaking my head and opening my eyes. “I WILL be queen, and I will be the greatest changeling queen known to history. No being will tell me otherwise.”

_Then why are you still hiding? Why are you still crying? Why are you still alive?_

“I don’t KNOW why I didn’t die! I know it should have been me, but it wasn’t! I should have died that day, but I didn’t, so that’s that! I will be queen and live on for Eacko, just like he wanted me to, and nothing will change my mind about that!”

I realize I’m panting from my explosive response. I wipe away more tears, standing taller and taking a few deep breaths. In, out. In, out. I can calm myself. I will remain calm, no matter what.

I hear a knock at the door. “Enter.”

A messenger comes in. There is no need, truly, for messengers, seeing as we can communicate using the hive mind. However, it keeps the unemployment down. This scrawny changeling could not pass any of the vital tests to become a soldier or a spy or any other worthy profession. He watches me; I can sense the thinly veiled hatred pouring out of him easily. “Message, my queen.”

“It says?” I turn to look down at the few changelings outside the palace once more.

“The meeting of the council will be moved to before dawn. Your presence is requested in the south hall.”

“Very well, Icaru.” The changeling bows and turns. “Wait,” I say softly. He glances back at me, an eyebrow raised. “You should have paid better attention to your classes, Icaru. Your hatred for me is so profound, it nearly brings tears to my eyes; tears of shame, that is, at how poorly concealed it is.” He offers no response. “I do not blame you for hating me, Icaru. Next time, however, do, at least, try to hide your feelings, even a smidgen?”

“As my queen commands,” he says through his clenched jaw. “I shall make my leave now, your majesty.”

“See to that.”

The door closes behind me and I sigh. It will be a long day.

*~*~*~

“I wish to apologize to them.”

That single statement silences the council. Every eye is on me. I take a deep breath, inhaling the confusion and outrage lacing the air. There had been plenty to begin with, but now, the room was filled with it. I blink slowly, and the arguing match begins.

“My queen, perhaps you might repeat that? APOLOGIZE to the… ponies?”

“You heard me right, Koviska. Perhaps you should get your ears cleaned if you are that hard of hearing. I said that last statement at a reasonable volume.”

I watch the changeling’s face slowly rise in red color. I smirk internally but that jovialness is quickly lost as I consider the implications of what I suggest. Grand Council member Koviska is right to be incredulous; if anything, I should apologize to my race. Not only that, but-

“Your majesty, changelings do not apologize!”

I sigh. “Neither do they lose after their last attempt at a meal, Idarsa.” I hear a small hiss escape her lips, followed by a rather colorful expletive. “Language, Idarsa. A lady does not say such words.” Her eyes widen. The shock on her face is almost as delicious as the shock I can taste. But it turns to ash in my mouth again. I sigh once more, bored and frustrated with how long this is taking. “We are a new age of changelings. Perhaps it is time to make history.”

_Haven’t you already done enough to make history? ‘And on that day, the Changeling empire failed in their last attempt of finding love. This was the final straw that led to their eventual extinction.’_

I shut my eyes tightly. I take a deep breath. “I spent time among the ponies. I know how they work. If we apologize to them, they may see fit to give us love willingly.”

“Nopony has ever given a changeling something willingly, your majesty!”

“Have we ever tried to ASK?!” I slam my hoof down, the sound echoing around the room, silencing the mutters that had begun to annoy me. “We have always stolen love, never once considering the fact that there may be easier ways to obtain it! Haven’t any of you foals wondered what it’s like to FEEL love, rather than just EAT IT?!” I'm panting lightly, but I don't care. Being angry keeps the thoughts away, at least momentarily. I will stay angry forever, if it just means I don't have to deal with it.

“Your grace.”

I look over to the right. General Tskari. He regards me coolly before shutting his eyes and resting his head on his hooves. “Changelings cannot feel love. We can only feed on it. As such, we must steal it, for beings such as pony kind refuse to see us as anything but monsters.” He opens his eyes again, staring directly into my eyes. “As demonstrated by the loss of your Guard Captain, they will stop at nothing to exterminate us without ever learning the truth.”

I wince, my heart running cold. My eyes narrow, but I say nothing. I can never say anything, in this regard. They can never know.

If word were to ever get out that the queen had once felt love, there would be outrage. The changelings were very afraid of change; change usually meant a shortage of love. Not only that, but if their queen had changed, they could be in danger. She could have gone soft. Thus, should I let my secret be known, I will surely be executed, just as my love was. I refuse to let that happen. He wanted me to be queen. I will be, but only for him. Only for Eacko.

The General sighs. “Be that as it may…” My ears perk up in surprise. He clears his throat. “Various missions to Canterlot have shown these ponies to be very emotional in nature. If we were to plead our cause, they may see fit to aid us.”

The changelings gathered begin to shout and bicker, outraged once more by his suggestion. My eyes shine with hope, however. I have one on my side. Perhaps one will be enough.

“Tskari, you go too far,” one says. “Those ponies are monsters! How many of our kind have shed their blood because of those ponies?”

“They have shed their blood for a reason, fool!” He slams his hoof down, growling. “We invaded THEIR territory with little hope of survival. Any troops going in there knew what was going to happen if we failed!”

"We would not have failed,” a small voice says, “if we had a better queen.”

The world slows. The changelings seem to part, like a sea, and I lay eyes upon one lone councilwoman. She regards me with cool anger, freezing my heart with how powerful a feeling it is. I stand and her face does not change. “What did you say,” I whisper softly, knowing she can hear me in the powerful stillness that has fallen upon the council.

“I believe you heard me, Chrysalis.” I breathe in sharply, along with many members of the meeting. It is forbidden to utter the queen’s name. “I said the plan would not have failed had we had a better queen.” She stands as well, and suddenly I recognize her. My heart pangs with regret, misery, sorrow… I keep each emotion locked up, but one.

“And what, pray tell, makes you say that,” I say, my voice rising in volume.

“I say this because you nearly sacrificed your entire race for a single city. Did you not think of the repercussions before you thought of the rewards? What of the surrounding allies? What if they had sent aid? What of the aerial teams Equestria is so proud of? What of LOVE, Chrysalis, which you seemed to forget entirely about? What of the power of LOVE that BEAT US after YOU, a CHANGELING who KNOWS the power it can have, DISMISSED IT?!”

I meet her glare with my own. I take a deep breath. “And what would you do to me now, Shasria? What would you do to the failure of a queen?”

“I would kill you with my bare hooves if I could.”

“Then, by all means, try.” A shocked gasp is hardly muffled somewhere in the group gathered. “If you can kill me, DO IT. I dare say the changelings will be BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME!”

My voice echoes through the chamber. I shut my eyes tightly and feel myself tense up. I feel anger coursing through me and I cannot contain it. I open my eyes, my wrath plain on my face. “But choose wisely, Shasria. Will you truly face me? Because, even as I am a failure of a queen, I am a queen nonetheless. I have tenfold the power you claim to have, and twenty times the power you truly have. I faced Celestia herself and survived. I have witnessed the death of a changeling from the front lines and realized it should have been me and I _kept. going._ Can you claim the same?”

Shasria is trembling. She gulps and takes a step forward, pointing an accusing hoof at me. “You are a failure, and I demand you be dethroned! You have failed your race. You’re a joke of a queen.”

“It must be hard for you then, Shasria.” I turn my back on her, flicking my tail. “At least some ponies like jokes.”

I turn to the guard standing by my left. “Detain her.” He nods and charges forward. I don’t watch the struggle; there would be no point to fueling my blazing anger. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but I cannot. Her words ring true, but I do not wish to hear them from her. She had once been a trusted advisor, bright and clear minded. Now, she hated me beyond all measure.

The guard to my right salutes to me. “What shall we do with her, your majesty?”

“Exec-” I stop, the word getting caught in my mouth. I think back to the nightmare, the blood staining me as my beloved’s head rolled past. That blood, covering my eyes, blinding me. That sickening blood. I gulp. “Throw her in the dungeons.” The guard looks curious at my decision. While it is not his place to be curious, I decide to indulge him. “Changelings sometimes end up being important. It’s hard to get important changelings who are dead to do anything.”

He nods and they drag her away. She screams the entire way. I sigh and turn back to those gathered.

Their faces are unreadable. I clear my throat. “This is why we need to send communications to Equestria. The changelings are on the verge of extinction. Many have lost hope. Many have gone mad, just as Shasria has.” I close my eyes softly. “It is time to swallow pride… and anger… and allow others to aid us.” I open my eyes, the last bit of anger I have left in this conversation surging forth. “I will be sending a letter of peace to Celestia. I fear this council cannot stop me. I only ask for your aid in this matter.”

I watch. I wait. Slowly, I see them nod. I do not smile, however. I cannot fully smile yet. I nod back. “Now. Your queen wishes to retire,” I say wearily. I spin and trot back to my room.

*~*~*~

The guard flings open the door, his eyes wide. “My queen!?”

I sit amid the debris of the sparing furniture that had once adorned my room. Everything that could be broken, other than my cocoon, has been utterly destroyed. I keep my head hidden from him to shield my tears from his eyes. “I am not being attacked. Do not question the destruction. Order the carpenters to begin constructing new furniture at once.”

The guard is silent for a long time. Suddenly, I hear him turn. “As you wish, my queen.”

He trots out. I hang my head and weep as silently as I can.

Destruction cannot bring him back. I can only hope peace will.


	4. Bargaining: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time to begin dealings with Equestria. I only hope they even believe me...

Twilight hummed happily as she glanced around the library. Everything was completely in order. It had taken her and Spike three full days, but they had managed it; every single book was in it’s proper place. Non-Fiction? Check. Mystery? Check. She sighed as she looked at the Fiction/Fantasy section. They had managed the impossible; Fiction/Fantasy was organized. This was truly a work of art.

A loud snore broke her thoughts. “Hmm?” She glanced behind her to see a very tired dragon. “Oh, Spike…” She smiled as she levitated him, placing him on her back. He curled up softly, mumbling something about Rarity. With a roll of her eyes, she brought him to his crib.

She tucked him in with a soft smile, chuckling. “Sorry I kept you up so late, Spike.” She lightly tousled his spikes before returning to the main room of the library. With a content breath, Twilight collapsed on a cushion. “Uugh…” She was exhausted, to say the least.

Her ears perked up as she heard a rapid knocking at the door. With a groan, she lifted herself up. “Coming…” She made her way to the door as the knocking continued. “Hold your horses…” With a yawn, she opened the door. “Hm? Rainbow?”

“FINALLY!” Rainbow flew in, spinning as she did to keep her eyes on Twilight. “I was knocking for forever!”

“Dash, it was only a few seco-”

“Nevermind that, Twi. Did you KNOW they were coming?!”

She tilted her head. “They? Who’s they?”

“So you didn’t know?! Um, well, they’re coming quick, so you’re about to get a bit of a surprise.”

“Surprise? Rainbow Dash, what are you-”

“Ahem.” Twilight tensed up and looked behind her. Celestia chuckled and Luna merely smirked. “We’re sorry, my faithful student,” Celestia said, “but it was imperative that we met with you and your friends immediately. There simply wasn’t time to send a letter.”

Twilight felt her jaw drop. “P-Princess Celestia! Princess Luna! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” She gulped, standing taller. “Um, yes, oh, I’m sorry if the place is a mess! Spike and I were so concerned about organizing all the books, we forgot about cleaning up! Oh, if only I had known you were coming, I would’ve cleaned up a b-”

“Twilight Sparkle, your room is plenty clean.” Luna bowed her head lightly, smiling. “We do request that you fetch the rest of your friends, however. We have very much to discuss.”

“R-Right away, your highness!” Twilight nodded to Rainbow and together they ran out.

Celestia took a deep breath as she sat. Luna sat beside her, her smile now lost from her face. “Are you alright, Sister?”

“I am. This is just going to be difficult. Twilight and Spike overcame much in the Crystal Empire after the wedding, but I do not know how they will respond to the task we have for them now.”

“They have proven themselves time and time again, Sister. They have already reformed one monster.”

“Luna, you know I hate when you refer to yourself as such.”

“It is nonetheless true, Sister. I was a monster as Nightmare Moon… but they brought me out of it, together. I am positive they can do as you ask.”

Celestia sighed as her horn glowed, summoning a scroll with a broken emerald seal. She looked at it with a mix of dread and curiosity. “I certainly hope so.”

*~*~*~

“We’re all here now, Princess’,” Applejack said as she sat down near them. “What’s it you wanted to talk to us about?”

“Is there a new threat to Equestria we must face?” Rarity asked.

“Or maybe some new monster that showed up whose butts we need to kick?” Dash did a few aerial kicks with her back hooves, saying ‘take that’ and ‘ka-pow’ as she did.

Pinkie stood on her hind hooves, eyes wide with terror. “Did Canterlot run out of cakes?!” Everypony looked at her, bewildered. She shrugged. “What? That’d be a national emergency!”

Celestia held her hoof up. Everypony was silenced. “I asked you all to gather here today because of a communication we’ve received from beyond Equestrian borders.” They all looked at each other, muttering. “I fear you may take this information as a shock… The letter in question came from the Outer Lands - the home of many beasts, but in particular, the home of the Changelings.”

At once, there was an uproar - or at least, as much uproar as six mares can make. “What?!” Dash landed, eyes wide. “The Changelings? Are they back?” Her eyes narrowed and she grinned. “Aw yeah, I knew I was right! We DO need to kick some butt!”

“Dash, calm down,” Applejack said, shaking her head. “We don’t know what that there letter’s about. Let’s not go buckin’ up the wrong tree.”

“W-What is the letter about,” Fluttershy muttered, looking back to the princesses.

Luna shut her eyes. “It is not, as Rainbow Dash so keenly believes, a declaration of their return and wrath.”

“Aww…”

Celestia unfurled the scroll and began to read. “To the sovereign leaders of Equestria… Our return to the Outer Lands has been met with dread and terror of the future. We drag ourselves close to the ground as we recognize our latest defeat, and realize it may be our last. We foolishly thought to invade Equestria for your love, for one reason and one alone - we, the Changelings, are starving and on the verge of extinction.”

“Woah, what?!” Pinkie’s eyes widened. “Extinction?”

Rarity gasped. “So… those ruffians were looking only to survive?”

“I wouldn’t trust them just yet,” Rainbow said. “What if they’re lying?”

Celestia cleared her throat and continued. “This declaration may come as a shock to you; after all, we did not explain our need. We simply attempted to take Equestria by force. Had we properly discussed our dilemma and hardships, I fear we may have avoided this unnecessary terror. Yet, we did not think so far ahead, and as such, both our races our punished for it. I do not expect you to forgive our race after the hardship we have caused you all; however, I still seek and ask for your forgiveness.”

“What?” Applejack sat a bit taller, surprised. “Forgive ‘em? After everythin’ they did?”

Celestia nodded, licking her lips before she read on. “This request will be met with anger and scorn, I am sure. I know we do not deserve such kindness from you; your kind has every reason to hate us, both for the invasion, and for events of the past.” Twilight rose an eyebrow at that, but kept silent. “That is why I ask this with an offering; peace.”

“I propose a treaty between our races. One that will stem all violence on either end. I see no reason why you will accept this, but after remembering recent events, I also have no reason to see why you would not accept this. I have lived among you ponies and, despite the brevity of my time with you, I have come to learn something of ponykind. You are emotive and harmonious, and to the end of keeping harmony, I request this: an answer to the question of if you will allow me to come to Equestria, alone, to create a treaty of peace with your kind. I await a response eagerly, for you are our last hope.”

Celestia shut her eyes as she reached the signature. “Signed… Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings.”

“What?” Twilight stood, eyes wide. “But she’s dead! We…”

Celestia hanged her head, her eyes still closed. “I, too, thought this to be a trick, my faithful student… but, while conversing with Luna, we came to a startling revelation.”

“Changelings can alter their form,” Luna said, her voice cold as ice. “It is obvious, now, in hindsight; one of the Changeling drones took her place as she ran, free. The Changeling we… executed… was not the true queen.”

Fluttershy gasped, putting her hooves to her mouth. “Y-You mean we... k-killed an innocent?”

Everypony glanced around. Rainbow shook her head. “T-They weren’t innocent, though! They still invaded!” Despite her vehemence, her voice wavered slightly.

“Darling, they were merely following orders.” Rarity glanced at Twilight. “Twilight, you’ve been researching these creatures. Would one of them really take her place like that?”

Twilight ran a hoof under her chin. “I-I’m not sure… The information we have on Changelings is sparing at best. From what I’ve seen, it’s very unusual for a Changeling to take the place of the queen. It would be seen as a capital offense. If a queen were to grow so weak as to be put in that position, her drones would be forced to abandon her…”

“Yet it appears still that we have made a crucial mistake.” Luna shut her eyes. “She provided proof of her identity.”

“What?” Twilight rubbed her head, eyes wide. “What kind of proof?”

“Merely sending this letter. We know much more about Changelings than the books of old, Twilight Sparkle. While magic is not out of their capabilities, the average drone cannot cast strong spells; certainly not strong enough to send a letter so far. A Changeling queen, however…”

All of them looked to each other as they realized the gravity of the past. They had killed an innocent drone. While killing was not foreign to ponies, it was rare in Equestria. So rare, in fact, that the usual punishment for murder is solitary confinement for life in prisons that were long forgotten to the regular citizens of Equestria.

Twilight took a deep breath. “We can’t change what’s happened… Chrysalis is still alive. We need to deal with this letter before we can mourn the events of the past.”

“Eloquently said, my faithful student.” Celestia rose her head once more, evidently having regained her composure. “The… requests she puts forth in this letter are humble. She is truly in need.”

“Princesses, don’t take this the wrong way, but they nearly destroyed Canterlot!” Rainbow scrunched up her nose. “I don’t see why we should forgive them!”

“It is not up for you to decide the fate of an entire race, Miss Dash,” Luna said. “That duty falls solely on the shoulders of my sister and I. We have already come to an agreement of what must be done.”

Luna glanced once at Celestia and nodded. Her sister nodded back before addressing the mares gathered. “We have chosen to forgive the Changelings and form a peace treaty with them.”

Applejack gulped, taking off her hat. “Are y’sure ‘bout that, Princess?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie bounced right up to the front of everypony, eyes full of concern. “If we make a treaty with them, they might try and get the upper hoof and steal ALL THE LOVE IN EQUESTRIA!” She gasped. “They might even ask for all the cake.”

“Pinkie Pie, darling, settle down. I’m sure whatever the Princesses have planned, they have this all under control.” Rarity smiled. “After all, a Changeling queen who is here under the watchful eye of two alicorns is hardly going to wreak havoc… right?”

Celestia shook her head lightly. “This is why we have gathered you all. As we saw at the wedding, a queen with a powerful store of love can overcome even an alicorn. With Luna by my side, we may be able to stop her should the need arise… but I would like to prepare for the unknown.”

“Even with our strength, we might not be able to contain her if this is a trick. Thus, we ask you, the Elements of Harmony, to act as hosts to the queen.”

Everypony gasped. “W-We have to look after the QUEEN?” Fluttershy trembled in place, hiding as much of her face as she could behind her mane. “Oh my…”

“Fluttershy is right!” Pinkie put a hoof to her head. “Queen meanie - weenie Chrysie will probably steal ALL OF OUR LOVE for each other!”

Applejack bit her lip. “I. I gotta agree with the rest of y’all. I dunno what I’d do if she tried to take the place of Applebloom or Big Mac.”

Rainbow crossed her hooves, shaking her head. Rarity sighed. “I’m afraid I have to agree as well. Having a Changeling queen in Ponyville… It simply seems unnatural. There’s so much damage she could do… Would the Elements truly be more powerful than both of Equestria’s leaders?”

Twilight opened her eyes. She’d been silent long enough; she’d had time to think this through. “I’ll do it.”

“HUH?!”

Twilight glanced at her friends. “I’ll do it. Chrysalis can stay in the library with me and Spike.” She turned back to the princess. “If this turns out to be a trick, I’m not sure we’ll be able to stop her… She’s proven herself to be powerful in the past... “

She shut her eyes tightly. “But what if she’s telling the truth? What if they really _are_ starving? What if she really _does_ want peace?” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes again; the pride in her teacher’s eyes was enough to make her smile. “We have to take this chance. If we don’t, then we could be missing out on an incredible future; Changelings and ponies, living in peace. We’ll be able to learn so much about them. It’s worth the risk.”

All of her friends looked at each other. Slowly, they all began to nod. Rainbow groaned. “Oh, fine… I don’t have to like it, though.” Twilight scowled at her.

“Thank you, my faithful student. I knew I could trust you with this task.” Celestia smiled at each of them. “We will send communications to Chrysalis with our terms. If she agrees to them, then she will be here in a week’s time.”

Luna stood. “I trust you will protect Ponyville should the need arise, all of you.”

Twilight nodded. “Of course, princess.”

Celestia and Luna rose, trotting to the door. Luna took flight as she left. Celestia glanced back one last time. “We’ll be in touch, Twilight.” Without another word, she was gone.

“T-Twilight… are you sure about this?”

Twilight nodded. “Of course, Fluttershy. I can’t let the princesses down.” She smiled, but inwardly, Twilight was screaming.

*~*~*~

I take a sip of my tea as I watch the sunrise, just as I do every morning now. I wake from nightmares every night; there is never ending screaming for me now. Never ending, needless bloodshed.

But I have come to terms with it. This is my life, now. I will last as this; I will still be queen. For him. For Eacko.

There is a knock at my door. “Enter,” I say softly. My voice wavers as I say it; I take a deep breath and sip more tea as the messenger enters.

“My Queen, message from the border. It came from Equestria.”

“Finally.” I turn to face him. In his hoof is the scroll. I take it and allow myself the smallest of smiles. “This is our final chance. I pray it goes well for us.”

“As do I, my Queen.”

I glance at him. “... Either you’ve grown much better at concealing your emotions, or you hate me less fiercely.”

His emotions flicker over his face; they taste astounding to me. Embarrassment. Happiness. Hope. There is a trace of anger, still, but it fades quickly. “Er, yes, My Queen. I merely followed your orders.”

I find myself speechless. “I…” I gulp and smile. “Thank you, Icaru. That will be all.”

He bows; it is genuine, this time around. “Yes, your majesty.”

“And Icaru?”

“Yes?”

“Have a nice day.”

He looks at me quickly, surprised, before averting his gaze from mine. “Er… yes, your majesty. As you wish.” He leaves quickly.

I lick my lips, tasting the last bit of his hope. It is so foreign. So… delicious.

I lock the door and sit, feeling tears in my eyes. Perhaps… Perhaps Eacko was correct. Perhaps I could be a good queen.


	5. Bargaining: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you have been alive as long as I, you will find how easy it is for your youth to be forgotten. History is crucial to remember, as an old friend has come to remind me.

I take a deep breath as I stand on the border of the Outer Lands, gazing into Equestria. The ground beneath my hooves feels dead; somehow, I feel the grass on the other side will feel no more alive than the rock in my hive.

“My Queen?”

I turn to look behind me, half expecting Eacko to be standing there after saying that phrase he was ever so familiar with. The General stands there instead. “Yes, Tskari?”

“It is just us, my Queen. There is no need to be so formal.”

I cannot help but smile softly, though the smile quickly fades. They always do, now. “Thank you, Kari. You have no idea how much of a relief it is to have someone on my side in this…” It’s been such a long time since I last called him that. How long had it really been?

“Your grace, I have always been by your side.” He flutters up next to me, standing tall beside me. He, too, looks out toward the grassy plains of Equestria that separate us from them. He sighed, shutting his eyes. “It’s come to this, then.”

“I’m afraid it has.”

He glances at me. I can taste his concern in the air. He’s worried; scared. “My Queen... are you positive about this choice?”

“What choice? I have none to make. This is the only option; surrender or die.”

Tskari shakes his head, frowning. “I do not mean our communications with the Equestrians. I mean about you… being queen.”

I look at him, surprised. “Do you mean to suggest I should abdicate my throne?”

He looks away from me, unable to meet my eyes. I lick my lips, hypersensitive to the emotions around me. Shame. Embarrassment. And… what is that peculiar taste? It reminds me of… something. “I do not wish for you to abdicate your throne, My Queen… but the Changelings would have your head. Perhaps it might be best for you to run. To hide in Equestria.”

I feel a surge of anger, but it quickly fades, just as the smiles have. What right do I have to judge his opinion, after my own chances have failed so spectacularly? “I cannot,” I say softly, “abandon my race.”

“I ask you to reconsider.”

“Tskari, I cannot abandon my people!” I shut my eyes tightly. “I can’t simply leave them in this time of crisis. This is my mess and it is my duty to clean it up.”

There is silence between us for a long time. The breeze runs through my mane; I can feel the chill in my hooves. The world feels 10 degrees colder. I glance at the sky. The clouds have covered the sun.

There comes a soft sigh from beside me. “He would have thought so as well.”

I stare at him. “… He?” I ask hesitantly, fully knowing the answer.

“Eacko. That love struck fool.”

My voice gets caught in my throat. I try to say something, but nothing comes out. I close my mouth, stunned into silence.

Kari knew? He had known all this time? How had he figured it out? I feel tears rising to my eyes; he did doubt me. He didn’t want me to be queen because he knew. He knew how weak I was. How pathetic I was.

“Your Majesty…”

I turn my back to him, shutting my eyes as tightly as I can, trying to ignore the tears rolling down my cheeks. I don’t want him to see this. It’s just proving his point. “A-As weak as I am,” I say in a wavering voice, “there is no need for me to abandon my people. I can still be a good queen.”

_No you can’t. Look at you; blubbering already over a single changeling knowing your secret. You’re so pathetic._

“My Queen.”

_You’re just sobbing. Pull yourself together. After all, Eacko managed that where you failed. He took your place. He did what you could never do. You will never be as great a changeling as him. You can barely amount to a larvae._

“Chrysalis!”

I gasp and open my eyes as he says my name. He puts his hoof on my shoulder, frowning. “You’ve never been that loose with your emotions since you were just a little girl.”

I gulp, quickly wiping away my tears. “I-I…” I sigh, hanging my head. “H-How long have you known?”

“Forever.” He smiles softly. “Eacko’s always been obsessed with you, ever since you all were kids.”

“All?”

“All those from your mother’s clutch.” He chuckles, his amber shining eyes swimming with nostalgia. “All of you were just a bit special, weren’t you?”

It’s so hard to remember back that far, but I try anyways. I remember bits and pieces; playing with little changelings my age, before I began my training. Eacko had always been close by. He was the first changeling I linked with. I remembered him clearly – all those lost chances at love – but the others were so distant from my memories. “I… don’t recall…”

“I wouldn’t expect you too. You were separated from them so early on in life, and you all went fairly separate paths. There was Maskra, remember? He was practically transforming before he knew how to crawl! And Swille, with those wings of his, he could fly better than most anyling. And no one can forget Ocura’s looks and how everyone thought she was supposed to be an infiltrator. She sure proved them wrong...”

The memories all start to come back. Maskra and his constant shape shifting… Swille, taking me for flights as soon as he could lift me. Ocura and her constant heckling of us. Eacko… his drawings…

“Yeah, you were quite the clutch… All of you went pretty far, didn’t you?” He shuts his eyes. “Even Shasria went somewhere.” I wince at her name. He sighs. “And then there was Eacko…”

“He would always draw you,” he began as I kept my head down. “Constantly, he’d just be sitting there with a piece of charcoal. He wasn’t half bad, either. But that wasn’t a good career for him… He wanted to be even closer to you. He wanted to protect you.”

The wind blows past us, cold for a spring breeze. I shiver. “Yeah… I guess he did, in the end,” he mutters.

“He did… He protected me, even when I did so little for him.”

“You did everything for him, my Queen. Everything.”

“No, I didn’t. I hardly acknowledged him until it was already too late.”

“Don’t you remember him?”

I look at him. “Of course I do. I miss him so much… I miss what we could have had.”

“You wouldn’t miss someone you did so little for.”

I don’t respond. What he said makes some sense, but it mostly brings back memories and thoughts I’m not ready to face. Not yet, at least. I sigh. “… It should have been me.”

“Yes. It should have.”

I shut my eyes. We stand in silence for a while; there is peace in those brief moments. But it is broken easily. I just have to know more. “You seem so… unsurprised. Is it really so easy for you to accept that a Changeling can love?”

“It’s easy to see, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Changelings have loved for years. It’s only taken this long to see it.” I glance in his direction questioningly. He smiles, fluttering his wings as another breeze sweeps past us. “I even felt love myself, once.”

I'm surprised. “Truly?”

Tskari nods, chuckling softly. “Yes… Me and Eacko are much more alike than anyling would ever know. You see… We’ve both loved a queen for years. I just happened to love a different one.” My eyes widen as I realize the implications of his statement. “Your mother never returned my affections, and all my feelings of love eventually began to fade. I still live to the promises I made to her, and I still remember my love fondly… It appears in different ways, now.”

“Tskari, I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, My Queen. Like I said, my love comes in other forms now.” I tilt my head, but he doesn’t say anything more on the subject. My brows furrow as I look to the sky, thinking. Is that the strange taste I keep finding? His ‘different way’ of feeling love? What was the word for it? It tasted so familiar…

The silence between us is long this time. I’m don’t want to leave yet. I’m not sure what awaits me in the halls of Canterlot… A trap? My death? I would hate to admit it, but I’m scared. I don’t want to go.

“… Permission to resign, your majesty?”

I glance at him, my fear turning to shock at the manner he asked me in, as though he were remarking on the weather. “Resign?!”

“Yes. I wish to be freed of all obligations as your general.”

“T-Tskari, what in the world are you talking about? You’re the best general I’ve ever had – I could never accept a resignation from you!”

“I’m afraid I must ask you to reconsider.”

I lick my lips. He would never just ask this out of the blue, especially when I feel as broken as I do now. “Why do you wish to resign, Kari?”

“Take this as no personal slight, my Queen. My service under your family has been the pride and honor of my old heart. But I’m growing too old for this. Too many wars, too many deaths… I’ve seen all I can take.”

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.” He smiles. “You see… I think it’s time I toured Equestria.” My ears perk up. “It’s possible for a Changeling to go undercover, at least for a while, in Equestria. It should be lovely for my retirement. And, if I just so happen to bump into the Queen while I’m away – well, that’d be an interesting story to tell.”

I taste it again – that strange emotion – and I recognize it now. It’s slightly different, just a bit more bittersweet, than what I felt from Eacko, but I can taste it now. Devotion.

He can’t come with me. The agreements between ponies and Changelings are supposed to happen with me, alone. No reinforcements. No generals. But nothing in the agreements mentioned Changelings no longer bound to the hive.

He’s still trying to look after me.

“Gah!” He gasps as I lunge toward him, tugging him close in a hug. He tenses up, surprised. “C-Chrys?”

I laugh, crying again; I don’t care this time. Crying is just part of my life, now. Besides – these are those rare happy tears. I savor them. “Your resignation is accepted. Thank you, Tskari… You’re giving up your entire livelihood as a Changeling for me…”

“I will do anything for my Queen.”

I giggle softly, looking down at him. “Please. Call me Chrysalis.”

He grins. “Chrysie it is then.” He gently puts his hoof on my back, holding me. I cry into him, smiling and laughing for the first time in years. I know this moment will pass, just as all the others do - but at least, now, there’s a small glimmer of hope in my dark world.


	6. Bargaining: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What I imagined would be the longest part of this all finally draws to a close as more friends - or, well, allies at least - join the fray. Seeing Celestia again, however... This changes things.
> 
> But does it really even matter at all?

My steps echo hollowly in the regal hallway. I narrow my eyes as I pass the stained glass windows. The entire hall feels so… cold. It might only be the start of the winter months, but the air has felt so chilled to me. There has been no warmth in this world. Not since Eacko…

The stained glass pictures are beautiful. I can’t deny that fact. The light from Celestia’s sun shines through them all, dotting the tiles on the floor with color. I see so many different pictures - the fall of Discord, both times, and the more recent defeat of Sombra. These windows span quite a period of time. I frown as I see the changelings are nowhere to be seen.

Celestia has neglected her history lessons.

“Ahem.”

I jump slightly as I hear a guard behind me. I turn and glance at him. He’s just your average guard, done up in that armor the ponies loved to show off in. He’s watching me cautiously. “You are the Queen.”

It’s not really a question. Just a statement of fact. I nod either way. “Yes, I am indeed. I’m waiting for my audience with Celestia.”

“_Princess_ Celestia.”

“Is there any other?”

He smirks lightly. “Well, there is another princess. Three, actually. Princess Cadance and Princess Luna.” He walks up beside me, surprising me - nopony as yet has dared get this close. “You would know all about them, though.” He smirked. “Princess Luna wanted your head after what you did to her sister.” He makes himself busy by examining the glass windows.

“Er… yes. I understand she missed the wedding while hunting down my kind,” I say, trying to bite back my bitterness about the fact. Yet another reminder at many senseless deaths.

“She did, yeah. It was a shame. Kinda funny, though.”

“Funny?”

“She did such a poor job, seeing as you’re still around.”

I glance at him, surprised. Nopony would dare bad mouth Luna. She was almost as feared as I was. He wears an easy smile, however, completely unaffected by his comment. I glance him over. He seems… odd, in a way. Something about the way he speaks feels familiar. I know that is impossible, however; I did not get close to many ponies while I was in Equestria.

I take a closer look. He is… well, unimportant. He’s just sort of… there. He looks like all the other guards I’d seen around Canterlot already. There appears to be nothing special about him. I can't even taste any stray emotion from him, other than faint amusement. So what about him keeps drawing my eye?

I don’t have long to ponder. He looks up at me fearlessly, an easygoing smile on his face. “Come. The Princess will see you now.”

I open my mouth to ask how he knows, but just then, the far door creaks open. There’s a faint sparkle of amusement in his eyes. I shut my mouth and follow the guard wordlessly. I’ll figure that strange pony out later.

I walk into the throne room. Unsurprisingly, Celestia sits at her throne. At her right side, Luna sits. A bit more surprisingly, at her left, Twilight Sparkle sits. What is she doing here? I thought this was to be a private audience… Frowning softly, I made my way forward.

The emotion hits me immediately.

I stop, eyes widening ever so slightly. To her left, I can feel anxiety. Confusion. Concern. But hope, nonetheless. To her right, hatred. Distrust. Condemnation.

But before me, all too powerful, I feel her. I can feel every distinct emotion Princess Celestia has, and it’s overwhelming. She feels so much love for others that I practically drown, and yet she’s so terribly scared that I feel I may collapse under the pressure of it all. I cannot grasp how ponies survive, not knowing the intensity of feeling they hold within. I gulp, my hooves trembling as I approach the throne and as I attempt to ignore the emotions attempting to swallow me up.

Celestia regards me warmly and I feel the sun’s heat in my soul, burning through me. “Hello, Queen Chrysalis.”

“Hello.” How my voice does not quiver, I shall never know.

She shuts her eyes, sitting tall on her throne. “You have requested peace between our two races. Me and my sister have already come to a decision on the matter.”

That shocks me. So soon? I lick my lips, feeling uneasy. I try to get some sort of read of of Celestia, but I can feel nothing but that damned love. There was so much of it, and nothing else. How could she survive like that? With such an overpowering emotion, always? Moreover, how did I not feel this before? This extreme intenseness, this overwhelming power? How was I able to ignore this before?

She opens her eyes again. “We have chosen to accept your peace.” My heart flutters in my chest. They’ve accepted it? Already? I had only just arrived! I had expected… I don’t know what I expected. Not acceptance. “However… It will not be easy.”

I feel hope surging through my veins. I try to bite it back, knowing how easily it all could fail, but I cannot stop it all. “I know it will not. With our past, ponies and changelings will struggle greatly. But it is the last hope of my race. I am willing to do anything, so long as they survive.”

Admiration. That’s what I feel next. Admiration, for me, the failure queen? Foolish. Bewildering. Why would she admire me? “I am glad to hear you say so, Chrysalis. The trials you will face here will be many. I fear my ponies will react poorly to you and your subjects.”

“For good reason,” Luna said, her eyes narrowing. “Thou hath instilled terror into their very hearts.” I wince. Her voice is as cold as I remember. “Pray that the mistakes of the past do not ruin thee.”

I feel a surge of anger and realize after a moment that it is my own. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Did you pray for the same, Princess?”

Tension. Fear. Anger. “You forget your place!” She slams her hoof down.

“Luna.” Celestia turns to her sister, holding up a hoof to calm her. In an instant, all the tension, anger, fear, all emotion other than relief, calmness, seems to fade from the lunar mare. I watch in amazement. How did she… Celestia turns back to me, her face filled with gentle disapproval. “That was out of line, Chrysalis.”

That single sentence stings. My heart cowers back under the force of her disapproval, that glint of sorrow in her eyes piercing my very soul. Why - how in the name of any deities left in this world could she do that? I swallow my sudden, shocking pain, trying to fight back that overwhelming emotion. I glance away from them in an attempt to hide my lapse of control. “I retract my statement,” I mutter.

The disapproval lessens - it’s still there, but it’s much easier to breathe now. Celestia is watching you when you turn to look at her. Strangely enough, she’s smiling. That smile unnerves me. How can she be smiling when I can still feel that disappointment in the air? “Well, your interactions with ponies certainly will be crucial in these peace talks.” She chuckled and the air felt lighter, even mischievous. “I suppose it will be good for you in Ponyville, then.”

Wait, what? “In Ponyville? I-I had presumed-”

“Canterlot?” Celestia shook her head softly. “There’s guards here, yes, but not many civilians. My guards will be loyal to whomever I seem to trust. The civilians?” She glances aside and I feel her slightest sorrow, the strength of a storm at sea, drowning innocents and taking lives as it is nature’s nature to do. I bow my head lightly in respect to her, cursing internally at the gesture. She sighs, smiling softly, resigned. “The civilians are their own people. Many see me as a doddering old fool.”

“Nopony would say that, Princess,” Twilight finally speaks up beside her, and I finally feel her emotions spark into play. Admiration, nearly as strong as Celestia’s earlier. Love, an intense love, though one I can’t quite place - it tastes nearly the same as her admiration. “You’re a fantastic ruler!”

She chuckles, smiling softly. “Nopony would say it, you’re correct. But it does not mean they don’t think it.”

“Nonsense, my dear sister. You are no more a fool than I.”

Celestia laughs, like little wind chimes to me. I shake my head, horribly confused. Were all meetings with foreign dignitaries so… casual? This feels so easygoing, too simple, too warm to truly be a meeting between me and pony kind. Celestia glances back at me. “I apologize. We’ve gotten off of topic. The matter at hoof is that, yes, you will be staying in Ponyville. It will facilitate public view of changelings as we all work to integrate your kind into our kingdom as you see fit. Will that suffice?”

I think for a moment about what she suggests. Staying in Ponyville certainly has its benefits. I could observe other ponies, in a small town rather than a big city with numerous threats… I nod. “Your idea has merit. Will I be living on my own?”

“Oh! No, that’s where I come in!” Twilight smiles brightly, but it does not fool me for a moment. I can feel the sudden spike of anxiety in her. “You’ll be staying in my house - er, library - with me and my assistant, Spike. If that arrangement doesn’t work, we’ve also set up a temporary home for you nearby with the help of the Mayor.”

I nod. That all sounded good and well. Her anxiety was telling, however. She was nervous, to say the least. Staying in her library would probably have her pulling her mane out sooner rather than later. Besides - I was a rather private changeling. I did have to seem diplomatic, however… “I will review your living arrangements, then. If they do not meet my satisfaction, then I can stay in the other home.”

Twilight nods. Luna’s nose scrunches up ever so slightly, and I can feel her distaste for me. She thinks I am being a prissy queen, I am certain, one who would never stoop low enough to living in a cramped library. If only she knew the squalor my people lived in daily. One glance at Celestia, however, makes it obvious she can see through my words. She’s smiling softly, smirking almost. “Very well. It seems we’re almost settled. Just one last thing.”

One more thing? I try to think of what could be left and fail. “What remains to be seen?”

“A private guard.” Celestia shuts her eyes. “As I said, my citizens are free ponies. They may - and I use may because I hope dearly that they are beyond this - try to harm you.” I had, of course, considered that possibility. Though, if we were to die in the Outer Lands either way, then how different would it be to die in Ponyville? “As such, I have seen fit to post one of my best guards to your service.”

As though on cue, the door opens, and a guard walks in. I glance over him and raise a brow, recognizing that same well hidden lack of emotion to be the guard from moments earlier. That flippant stallion is to be my guard? He walks casually up to the throne, bowing deeply. “Yes, Princesses?”

Celestia smiles brightly. “Ah, Masquerade. You’re right on time, per usual.” How on earth can she tell him apart from the rest of those guards of hers? They all look alike. “Queen Chrysalis, I believe you have met before?”

“For but a moment outside.” I watch him carefully. That same pang of familiarity comes, and though I attempt to shake it away, it refuses. “You are to be my private guard?”

“Indeed I am.” He straightens up and glances at me, a warm, friendly smile on his face. “It is an honor to serve you, My Queen.”

I hear a stray emotion in his voice. A mischievousness in his tone that unlocks more memories than I knew I had. All with those two simple words, ‘my queen’. I raise my brows in surprise. Only Changelings…

Masquerade.

Oh my goodness.

What a clever disguise.

I smile and nod. “A pleasure to have you, Masquerade.” He grins.

Celestia watches us both, a knowing smile on her face. I’m not positive just how she knows our connections, but I am positive she does. Luna seems none the wiser, and Twilight is simply enamoured with my existance. Celestia, however… She has noticed and responds in turn. “I am sure you have much to discuss. If there is nothing more to cover, I say we should let you and Twilight head to Ponyville.”

“Indeed. That sounds… delightful.”

The next hour is a flurry of action and movement. I sign numerous documents, essentially saying that I won’t kill anyone while I am here. It would be foolish to attempt to either way; Masquerade - well, Maskra, I remind myself with a warm smile - watches my every action like a hawk. It is easy to see that his loyalties lie now with the Princess.

Part of me should feel offended or betrayed by that fact. Instead, I am merely happy to see him.

But even that happiness fades. By the end of the said hour, I am left dozing on the empty train to Ponyville, thankfully undisguised. Twilight is fast asleep nearby. Maskra watches me closely, as always, protecting me even now. Me and him have already discussed why he is here. He abandoned the hive at the battle for Canterlot, abandoned me because of my foolishness. I could not blame him. Neither, it seemed, did he blame himself for his actions. He has a good life here in Equestria.

Equestria. I glance outside, watching the trees roll past and the bright moon. I see lakes and flowers and small animals. I see so much out there. It is so… peaceful.

And yet…

In this peace, I finally feel it. The pang of loss. The regret. Everything I have been working towards has ceased. Now all I can do is wait…

I feel something odd inside.

A vast… nothingness.

I wake from a short nap and feel as though I never slept at all. Maskra keeps casting me worried glances from time to time. I simply ignore them. Twilight leads me to the library and I kindly decline the option of living with her, instead going with her to the nearby house. It is spacious and will fit my needs well.

And there I stay.

This is the start of a new life, I remind myself. I must simply wait for it to begin.

Bargaining worked. Now came the hard part.

Living.


	7. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I...
> 
> I am tired.
> 
> But I cannot sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: graphic imagery and mild gore

One week.

My eyes shoot open as I gasp, my heart pounding in my chest as I feel the blade come down over my neck, watch my head roll and my lover weep and smile all at the same time. I still hear those whispered words, how I am an awful queen, how I should have died that day, how this was all my fault…

My fear fades gradually as I slowly turn my head to gaze out the window. My breathing slows as I watch the sun begin to rise over the horizon.

The light does not reach my room quickly. It creeps over the hills towards me. I lie in bed until it crosses into my room, resting across my covers, doing very little to warm me. I make no movement in the time it takes to come my way. There is no need to, after all.

My breathing has slowed.

I begin to feel hungry after, I would estimate, 2 hours. Dimly, I realize I’m standing, walking towards the kitchen. My wings flutter slightly as I walk, making my ears perk up at the first sound I have truly made all day, beyond my startling wake up. I go to the kitchen and peek outside.

Ponies pass by. Laughing. Smiling. There is a wide berth around my house, however. They never come close. I catch their wary glances, cautious smiles.

My horn glows softly. I breathe in the latent love in the air, that love that is so terribly abundant here. It fills me. The taste no longer appeals to me, however. It could never match his, after all. I have been spoiled by the memory of that taste.

I make myself tea and sit, feeling full but undernourished. I watch the steam rise for longer than necessary. I sip it.

It’s gone cold by the time I start drinking.

Hours later, I glance up from the empty cup as there is a knock at the door. I look at the clock on the wall. 10:30. I sigh and stand, moving to the door and letting her in. I know who’s calling. She’s the only one who visits me directly, after all, other than those friends of hers.

“Hello, Chrysalis,” she says in a cheery voice, sitting down and setting her notepad on the table. Twilight watches me, eyes bright and still so… happy. “How are you today?”

“Just fine,” I say with a small smile, the words coming unbidden to my lips.

“Good! Now, as you know, this first week was just a week for you to get settled in. Now, the fun part starts!”

She starts to ramble about what is required of me. I’ll need to go about town. Socialize. Make friends. I nod along, thinking on other things. My eyes dart toward the window as I see Maskra pass by for the upteenth time today. His eyes meet mine.

He’s never been good at hiding concern. Every other emotion, he can expertly disguise, but concern escapes his ability.

I swallow the emotion down and look back to Twilight. “- and, of course, I’ll be with you so that you can feel comfortable!” She opens her eyes as she concludes her rant, smiling. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

I nod, levitating my mug over to the sink. “Let us get this over with quickly, then.”

It goes poorly in my eyes, to say the least. At least 3 ponies faint straight away when I near them. Mothers grab their foals and drag them inside. My ears twitch as I hear the ponies muttering, and my body churns their emotions around inside.

Fear. Distrust. Hatred.

So… familiar.

Concern. So much concern is in the air.

A pony confuses Maskra as an offensive guard. “I am here to protect Queen Chrysalis, under Princess Celestia’s orders,” he says rather gruffly. The pony flushes with embarrassment. I stifle a small snicker before sighing, my small, everlasting smile returning. Maskra glances at me, and I can taste something new.

Hope.

The emotion fades into ash in my mouth as my smile slowly falls once more to my more serious mien. Maskra sighs as well, shaking his head and looking every part a royal guard once more.

I stare blankly ahead as Twilight reassures me that the ponies here in Ponyville are just startled by new things and creatures. “They might be more friendly if you smiles at them,” she suggests hesitantly.

I watch as another pony screams and runs away. I turn to her, deadpan. “And what, pray tell, should I smile about? Their screaming?”

“Er…” She giggles nervously. “Fair point.”

*~*~*~

Two weeks.

Crystals are slowly encasing my body. Maskra tries desperately to tear them away, tears in his eyes and concern drowning me in the prison that slowly forms. “FIGHT THIS,” he screams. “FIGHT THIS, FOR CELESTIA’S SAKE!”

I watch him blankly. I sigh and nod, my horn glowing. In a flash, all of the crystals shatter.

I blink from the flash. When I open my eyes, my love stands before me, his heart pierced and neck bleeding from a clean cut all ‘round. His eyes are glassy and blank. He looked at me, tears rolling down his cheeks, washing away his skin as it fades to air.

“Eacko,” I breathe, a pang of… something inside.

He stumbles towards me. I catch him and hold him close to my body. He looks at me and smiles.

_I know you can be a good queen._

I startle awake.

Maskra watches me, concern growing as I chuckle at the antics of Pinkie Pie. She is very funny. She pushes a box of cupcakes toward me, free of charge. I accept them graciously, trying to ignore his surges of emotion.

They sit, uneaten, on my counter until they go stale.

I realize two days later that I’ve forgotten to eat anything. The holes in my body seem larger. I feel terribly weak when I wake. I force myself to absorb more passing love, despite it stirring my stomach. It makes me feel sick.

Twilight comes to ask me to join her for the day. I tell her that I am not feeling well. She bemoans on and on her lack of knowledge of Changelings, wishing there was something she could do to make me feel better. I tell her that what I am experiencing is nothing worse than the common cold, that I’ll be absolutely fine with a bit of rest.

After preparing some tea, some food, getting more blankets, more pillows, and telling me that she loves me very much and hopes I get better, she leaves.

What a silly mare.

Maskra checks up on me when I do not join Twilight outside. I tell him I am merely sick. It is obvious he doesn’t believe me. Thankfully, he leaves me alone; I can feel his distrust in the air, and always, always that tangy concern that peaks my senses. It never used to do that before. Had my senses dulled?

My day is uneventful. I watch the happy ponies pass. I think, what have they done with their lives? Have they done good? Are they happy with their actions? Are they happy with their families and choices and houses and feelings?

Are they happy?

I do not eat what Twilight provides. It goes in the trash, forgotten.

I stay up and watch the stars rise.

*~*~*~

1 month.

I lie in bed, tossing and turning. My emotions are turbulent. I am having a nightmare.

“Chrysie.”

I calm, opening my eyes. The changeling beside me smiles. “There you are.”

My ears twitch at his voice. I hug him tightly, crying. “Woah! Missing me already?” He laughs softly, brushing his hoof through my mane. “Did you have a bad dream, my Queen?”

I sniff. I look into his eyes, emotions bubbling up inside me in a wellspring. He watches me, loves me, he wants me to be okay. I can feel his loyalty, devotion, I can feel Eacko longing for me. His brows relax and he smiles at me. “My Queen?”

Love. Lust. Awe. Wonder.

Concern.

I pull away from Eacko.

“My Queen…”

He watches me.

Sorrow.

He smiles.

“You did your best.”

Blood rings his neck.

“EACKO!” My screams echo in my ears.

I wake to the sound of my scream. Maskra darts in, concerned.

Always concerned.

I make him leave.

Not now.

I’m sitting in front of my mirror at midday. Maskra is behind me, anger dripping out of his every pore. Anger, a loyalty that cannot be broken even after the time apart we have spent, and of course, concern. It is late in the day. “Chrysalis, I know you heard me.”

What had he said? I grasp to remember.

Ah yes.

“Indeed, I heard you.”

“None. No emotion, whatsoever. What is wrong with you, Chrysalis?”

I blink, gazing into my reflection’s eyes. They stare back, curious. “Nothing’s wrong. I am just… waiting.”

“You can’t just ‘wait’. You have to act!” He huffs, stamping his hoof against the ground. I watch him in the mirror. “You’re acting odd. Nothing you’re doing makes sense, My Queen.” I wince at the moniker along with the reflection. I don't think he notices. “You hardly show emotions when normally it’s impossible for you to hide them, particularly from me. You don’t even crack a smile anymore for longer than a brief second!” He shuts his eyes. “It’s like… like you aren’t even there anymore.”

I watch him in the mirror. “Perhaps I’ve used myself all up, then.”

He hisses softly, reminding me that he speaks to me, not as a guard, but as a changeling. “Don’t say things like that.”

“You’re acting childish,” I say softly, calmly.

“And you’re acting like a ghost.”

A ghost.

Is that what I am now?

That pang returns, unbidden, unnecessary, unwanted. That single pang of emotion. I try to smother it and fail. It grows because I acknowledged it.

Panic rises with it. Anger. That fades.

Concern.

I see Maskra in the mirror as I freeze, paralyzed. The color fades from his face and his eyes widen. He licks his lips, wings fluttering. I close my eyes.

Regret.

“My… My Queen-”

“Leave me. Now!” It comes out as a bark, a command to one whose priorities no longer included me, a command to a servant who should not, would not care for it. Sure enough, my senses sour.

Yet he, of all people, understands. He knows what this is.

“As you wish.”

The door closes.

My reflection watches me, silent. And slowly, slowly…

She breaks down, crying, shutting her eyes and ignoring the world, the feelings, and always, always staying quiet as she could.

She couldn't admit what had happened.

He knocks before he enters. The mare jumps, surprise melting away to confusion and alarm. To concern. “Masquerade? What's wrong?”

“We need to talk.”


	8. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much is happening.
> 
> Is it not easier to just...
> 
> Forget?

He attempts to sit calmly at the table, but his emotions are a tempest in him. He watches Twilight as she goes about making tea, of all things. He wants to burst out of this (frankly itchy) skin he’s wearing, reveal his true self to her and explain everything immediately, right away.

He’s so worried.

He swallows it and breaths.

Patience. It was a virtue, he’s always been told. It’s a lesson he still struggles with. But, nonetheless, it’s a lesson he has to take to heart.

Twilight trots over, setting down two tea cups and a pot, pouring it with ease. She’s frowning, which makes sense, given his obvious concern. He’s never been good at hiding that, has he? Insane, the fact she can feel nothing else from him at this moment. His skills of hiding his emotions fail when it comes to matters as serious as this. “What’s wrong, Masquerade?” She sits calmly, sipping her tea carefully - it’s still hot, after all.

He breathes in softly, careful to keep up the facade, if but for a little longer. He’d been trained, after all. This was how he was supposed to act. Play the role. He had grown up without needing much training, but that was one aspect he failed in constantly. He just couldn’t stop being himself. “I have something to discuss with you, Miss Sparkle, but… I fear you will react poorly to this.”

She sets down her tea, frown growing. “I… I still want to know, Masquerade. Whatever it is, we can work through it together.”

He can taste her forced smile from across the table as strongly as if it had been his own. These ponies were so free with their emotions. So… trusting. Odd. He sighs, turning away from her. “Princess Celestia already knows of my… being.” Just a little longer to hold this.

“Your being?”

“Yes. You see, I… I am not who I pretend to be. That’s important for you to know if this conversation is to make any sense.” Twilight nods and he licks his lips. How to proceed?... “I… I’m going to show you who I really am. This _can’t_ leave this room, you understand?”

“I…” Of course, she hesitates. The Element of Friendship and Magic isn’t really one to keep secrets, after all - she learned that lesson already. Still, she nods eventually. “I understand. I trust you.”

He laughs, standing and removing his helmet. “You… might not after this.” Her brows furrow.

And he changes.

“GAH!” She stands quickly, eyes widening, as he spreads his wings with a soft groan, lifting his hoof effortlessly. Goodness, he needs to stretch more often, he realizes dimly. Had he stretched out of his costume earlier with the Queen? He must’ve forgotten. “Y-You’re a-a-”

“A changeling, yes,” he says, relishing his own voice. It’s far smoother than Masquerade’s, much more befitting of a changeling. He’d been in his own form when talking with Chrys, and even that short break between changes had been enough for him to miss this form. He clears his throat, giving himself the once over. “I’m sorry for the surprise,” he says, lowering his hoof a bit sheepishly.

Twilight watches him, wide-eyed and obviously shocked. But, slowly, her eyes take a more curious gleam. He could easily understand why. He didn’t quite look like a normal changeling, after all. His eyes were tinted to a magenta shade, and his body was almost entirely void of holes. “W-Why do you look-”

“So different?” He smiles softly, sympathetically. It isn’t the first time he’s had to explain this, after all. “Because, at this point, I am different. I’m a changeling who’s had prolonged exposure to love in abundance. You ponies are so free with it, especially Princess Celestia.” He bows his head slightly, a soft, hardly visible blush rising to his cheeks. “I apologize for having withheld the truth from you for so long, Twilight, but Princess Celestia insisted I not cause a panic. And, well, given past relations-”

“That’s exactly what she would say,” Twilight says with a growing ease. He breathes a sigh of relief as he feels the emotion. It's not what he expected when he'd imagined the scenario at first, but lord is he happy to feel it anyways. Twilight slowly eases herself into her seat once more, shaking her head in slight disbelief. “A changeling… and Celestia knew?”

“She's known from the instant I joined her guard. I actually started as a prisoner of war, believe it or not.” Masked chuckles as he sits as well, shutting his eyes. “Princess Luna was certainly out for blood. Though, she never has been a fan of changelings.”

Twilight raises a brow. “I don't know what you mean. I remember that being in the Queen’s letter, and I remember her mentioning something about the events of the past, but Celestia hasn't given me a straight answer about what happened.”

Maskra licks his lips. This wasn't a very easy topic to discuss. “I can understand why. It’s a tad bit personal.” He sighs, rubbing his neck as he slowly gets more comfortable. The stuffy guard routine was nice and all, but this was so much better. “See… Way back in the day, before Equestria was still fresh and new, Celestia and Luna were struggling with a lot of pressure from outside lands. New, weak looking kingdom? You know people wanted to get the jump on that.”

“The Griffons and Yaks wanted the northern regions, and the Dragons wanted to claim the southern regions,” Twilight recites, as though straight from a text book.

Maskra nods. “But, erased from that history you knew was the Changelings.”

“But why? That seems like it would be important to know!”

“Because Luna couldn’t accept it.” Twilight tilts her head, confused. “You see, Changelings, back then, we were a lot different. We were a proud empire, run by…” He licks his lips again. “Queen Velouri. Chrysalis’s mother.”

“Wait - mother? But that was years and years ag-”

“Changeling Queens can live for centuries, Twilight, so long as they have the proper amounts of love. At the time, she was still a fairly young queen, though she had countless years of experience under her belt already. In any case, she saw Equestria as a place of resources. She didn’t want land - she wanted ponies. They were an ever present source of love. In her cunning, she told the ponies she would work with them against their enemies.”

“Luna wanted nothing to do with her. She suspected everyone. But Celestia knew that without help, her kingdom would never survive. So, Celestia allowed Velouri access to her kingdom in exchange for aid. As you can guess, it had disastrous results. Velouri was unsatisfied with her position and attempted to dethrone Celestia and Luna. In the end, Luna had to take the initiative, as Celestia was not prepared to give up diplomacy. Hundreds of Changelings died, as well as many ponies. But, the invasion ended… with a small cost.”

“Luna’s trust had been shattered. She didn’t know who to trust anymore. It didn’t help when she found two Celestias vying for the throne.”

“Velorui,” Twilight says, nodding.

“I always knew you were smart,” he compliments. “She had to make a choice on who to injure. It was one of the hardest decisions of her life, according to Velouri’s accounts. But, in the end, no one knows what happened. Just that Velouri left with her remaining forces, and Celestia and Luna both agreed to omit the invasion from history. Ages went on, ponies forgot. Those who remembered aged and died. There’s still some ponies out there that believe in the original invasion, but they’re considered conspiracy theorists now.”

Twilight shakes her head, taking a second to take this all in. Maskra certainly couldn’t blame her; this was a lot to learn, of course. Eventually, she nods, taking a soft breath. “So, where does this leave us?”

“In a very complicated situation.” Maskra shuts his eyes, thinking back to the last few days. “There’s a reason why Princess Celestia assigned me to Chrysalis. The Princess is ridiculously intelligent and perceptive - she knew something was wrong with Chrysalis just from that letter. She was right.”

“Something wrong?”

“Changelings can taste every single unguarded emotion, not just love. It takes years to build up walls against what Changelings can sense. Queens have a natural-born talent for it, as there are various secrets that certain emotions give away. Those secrets need to be kept. Chrysalis has always been good at hiding her emotions, but something has changed.”

He opens his eyes. “When I first saw her in the Canterlot castle, she was sensing strongly, almost more than I’ve ever known her to, but her emotions… Every little surge of emotion had a slight delay to it, and it faded almost instantly. I thought joking with her and letting her recognize who I was would cheer her up, but even the vague happiness she felt when seeing me faded. And now?”

He feels sick. Extremely sick. He takes a breath, uttering the next phrase quickly, like ripping off a bandage; “She has become one of The Mouraiie.”

*~*~*~

I know now how long I cry. When I look into the mirror, I see my eyes are puffy from the tears. I cannot even laugh at myself, looking as pathetic as I do. There was once a time when I could, but this is not the reflection of the queen I used to be. The queen I used to be was strong, respected, revered. Changelings would have fallen in droves at my hooves if it pleased me. Now...

I hear my own thoughts.

_It should have been you._

Yes. I know.

The sun is setting. Maskra ran from my home at midday. I wonder just how long he has been speaking with whomever he went to and pray he did not go to Twilight about my sickness. She would never understand, I realize. He could make her try, but my sickness is a Changeling disease. Not even he could really understand this.

Many had tried and all failed. It was considered a myth, this disease, a myth that was told to those Changelings who got too secretive. Who withheld too many emotions. ‘Stop, before you join the ranks of The Mouraiie’. Before you join the ranks of the sick. Of the broken.

_You should have died. Not Eacko. You should have, you diseased failure._

I know. I know, I know, I know.

Maskra is concerned. More concerned than necessary - there is no help for The Mouraiie. None of the stories gave a cure, and this disease was never supposed to exist. Those few Changelings who began to feel the pangs of this mythical sickness fought and won.

I never fought. How could I? How could I, without him?

_Why would I?_

I used to feel sad when I remembered my love’s death. I used to wish, hope, it wasn’t true. I used to feel angry that I let it happen. I even tried to do everything in my power to bring him back. But he’s gone. And now, I am Mouraiie. I feel nothing. I amnothing.

_You ought to take his place now. If only to see him again._

I sigh, shutting my eyes.

“I know.”

I do not move. There is no point.

Killing myself wouldn’t bring him back, after all.

*~*~*~

“More what?”

“Mouraiie,” he says, sounding disgusted with just that term. He shudders, drawing his wings closer to himself. He looks more concerned than his other form ever allowed for. “It’s this… sickness that takes over the Changeling’s mind and body. They no longer give off any emotion, none whatsoever. They’re unable to feel any of what they absorb, other than the ability to label what the feeling is. It’s just… nothing.”

“But… Chrysalis has emotions. I’ve seen them!”

“That’s the thing. There’s one driving emotion that these Changelings seem to cling to. It’s been… well, some people like to think that the only cure is to follow that emotion. But that’s impossible, I felt her emotion, the one she’s using to fake every other one, and it’s…”

Twilight watches him. He gulps.

“It’s love.”

Her eyes widen.

“But… No, Changelings can’t-”

“Not anymore.” He licks his lips. “I felt it. I felt it from her not long ago, just before I came here. She… She has felt love.” He shuts his eyes, trying to reign in his emotions. It doesn’t work. Even she notices, grows concerned.

“Masquerade, what’s wrong?”

He breathes in softly, disgusted by the slight shudder in his breath. He should be better at hiding his emotions, but god, this was bringing back all of his worst memories. The best and the worst. “I… I knew who she loved. I knew the Changeling she loved.”

Twilight’s ears perk up. “You knew him?” There’s a pause. “... _Knew_ him…”

"You’re a smart one, Twi,” he repeats, eyes still closed as his head falls lightly. “Figure it out.”

Her eyes narrow slightly at his comment as she analyzes his words. “You’re speaking in past tense. That obviously means he’s dead. But… how did he…” Maskra says nothing. Her brows furrow ever so softly as she thinks back. It would have happened in the invasion, surely - before that time, Changelings hadn’t been reported from anywhere in Equestria. But the only one killed in the invasion was…

_”From what I’ve seen, it’s very unusual for a Changeling to take the place of the queen. It would be seen as a capital offense.”_

Her eyes shoot wide. “The one that took her place.”

Maskra cannot hold back his tears as they slowly come, eyes watering and blurring his vision. “Eacko was his name… and he loved her.”

Twilight brings a hoof to her mouth, surprise in her face. Maskra quickly wipes away his tears, cursing under his breath. “Masquerade, I…”

“He was a good changeling. An even better pony,” he adds. “But you would never have known that, how could you?” He takes a breath again, forcing himself to calm down. “It’s fitting that he would die for her. A Changeling in love will do insane things, after all. I know that better than any, now, don’t I?” He licks his lips, sighing.

“But, wait, you…” Twilight shakes her head, utterly confused. “Changelings don’t feel love, but… Eacko, Chrysalis… You?”

Maskra laughs bitterly. “The rumors of our inability are greatly exaggerated. I loved someone once, too.”

“Loved?”

“She died.”

*~*~*~

I pace, worried as the hour grows late. Maskra still has not returned. My paranoia creeps up on me in the darkness of my room and I promptly seek out a light. It does little, however. I still feel the lurking doubts and fears that seem to haunt me every day, every waking moment now.

What if he has abandoned me?

Well, who could rightly blame him? After all, I was a foal of a Changeling, a miserable excuse for a queen, or anything resembling anything of any worth. I could not, then, rightly blame him if he abandoned me to my disease and left me to rot away.

So why then did I feel such fear?

It made no logical sense… and yet, for a brief moment… I felt elation.

I felt _fear._

I had felt something.

Yet it fades, as all emotions do, a simple breath making it disappear into the musty air of my home. I shut my eyes even as it does, mourning the loss of my senses for just as brief a time. And then…

There is a tingling sensation on my skin.

It’s as though my body has fallen asleep. Not each limb, void of circulation in a logical progression, but every fiber of my being asleep and unable to rise. I look down as though in slow motion and realize dimly that the holes in my hooves appear… wider.

And I don’t care.

The thought raises a small, blissful smile to my face.

_I don’t care._

I haven’t felt so… so free in years.

“There’s nothing to live for anymore,” I mutter to myself absently, as calmly and matter-of-fact as I would remark on the sunshine and blue skies that seem ever present in Ponyville. “Nothing to live for, and so nothing to care about.”

I pause before the mirror, not recognizing the face I see. Her eyes are dim, greyer than my own. Her wings droop, shredded at her sides, more so than altogether healthy. And there is just an odd, unfitting smile attached to her face, as though someone pinned it there loosely in a foal’s game of Impersonation.

She is at the same time utterly disgusting and wholly beautiful.

How ridiculous.

I glance outside. It is late. I should sleep soon.

I move to the bed and lie down, but the eyes of the face in the mirror do not close. For, if nothing matters, and I do not care, then what need have I of sleep?

*~*~*~

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she says softly, sympathy dripping in every word. It is not an easily given sympathy, either, but expressly genuine. He can taste its traces in his mouth for the rest of the night.

For now, it is a poignant counterpoint to his own bitterness.

“Thank you for the sympathy, but it happened a very long time ago. I was on an infiltration assignment. A pony I saved from a wrathful, abusive stallion… She quickly fell in love with me. She was sweet, kind…”

Maskra shuts his eyes, sighing. “Her name was Camille. At the time, I saw her only as something to feed off of. She fell in love so easily, it was… interesting. But, as tensions time went on, as we did more infiltration missions and Chrysalis planned to invade… I found myself missing her when I was away. I came to… to feel for her.”

He opens his eyes again, looking at Twilight. “She died just before the invasion. She had always been weak, after all, and it… it was over before it truly began. She left her flower shop to the version of me she knew, that facade I wore when I wanted to see her. I was… broken. I felt so strange. But I was so set, determined to change things, that the feeling made way for something else.”

“I sold the shop, sending all of the money to her father - he was sick, you see. And then, I went to Chrysalis, and during the invasion, I switched sides. I turned myself in, allowing myself to be captured. From that day forward, I would not serve a Queen who decided to harm the lives of ponies, ponies as kind and sweet as Camille.”

Twilight nods. “I understand…”

“I don’t think you do.” Maskra stands, beginning to pace. “I felt an odd emotion, one I couldn’t place, but now, I know it to be love. I have seen and tasted it from so many ponies, I have memorized the feeling. I felt it and I lost it.”

“Just like Queen Chrysalis.”

“And yet, she is Mouraiie.” He stops, stamping his hoof in annoyance. “There must be a way to fix her! There’s got to be something to do to fix this.”

Twilight stands as well, nodding. “I think I know exactly what to do.” He turns, looking at her, confused. “You said in your story that you felt broken, but you were driven forward by a cause. The Mouraiie seem to cling to an emotion, as you said - you were clinging to determination.”

“But she clings to the love of a dead drone,” Masrka hisses, anger bubbling up uncontrollably. Twilight doesn’t back down, to his surprise. He frowns, wings buzzing. “How can we fix her when he is dead?”

“Simple.”

“We give her something else to love.”


	9. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

The world around me is emptiness. Not the emptiness of sleep, but a new form of emptiness. The sun is slowly rising and drifts across the sky, as though Celestia herself knows I have become Mouraiie and seeks to right this wrong. But that is just it.

The sun does nothing. The light on my hoof does nothing. The ceiling I stare at does nothing and the clock ticking on my wall does nothing. Nothing breathes in and out of me and I, too, do nothing.

I have not slept. My eyes have not closed. And yet, I feel as though I have fallen asleep and have been asleep for weeks now. Months. The instant my eyes closed was when that axe went through my love’s neck. The emotions I have felt have been merely fleeting dreams. Now, I am fully asleep and there is no waking up.

There is something interesting about the lack of sleep in my waking sleep. I have not had a nightmare. The change is welcome. I have had dreams upon dreams of my love dying, or myself dying, of worse things - and better - that cannot be classified as anything but nightmares. And yet… I have been released from that horror, at least for a day. Perhaps I have them still, but I do not realize. I feel nothing now.

It is a relief. But the taste fades in my mouth to ash. All tastes do now. Even the ash tastes… different. Like nothing. My world is so empty now. I realize now that it has been empty for such a very… very long time. It has only taken me this long to realize that simple, easy fact to accept. That I am empty.

I do not wish to get out of my bed. In fact, I know I should not. I feel very weak, albeit I do not care. I should rest and stay in bed. It will not help and I shall rot away to the ash I taste.

And I don’t care.

The holes in my body are much larger, I notice once more, my thoughts simply remarking on the fact over and over again as time drones on. My mane is piecemeal and my wings are wilted. They droop like the willow trees I have seen by the Everfree Forest on my few wanderings. I shift very slightly and see black dust turning white beneath my body. Am I molting? Or simply rotting away so soon?

It is odd. But I could not care less.

I watch the ceiling and do not shift for an indeterminate amount of time.

I am at peace.

*~*~*~

Maskra’s mind races the entire night through, and he is set on pacing out the extra buzzing in his skull that he’s unused to. But, he can feel exhaustion take over as Twilight goes to bed. With a sigh, he of course realizes that while he could stay up the whole night through, fretting and pacing would do him no good. He finds himself curling up at the floor of Twilight’s bed, resting his eyes and buzzing his wings lightly.

He dreams.

It is odd, now, to dream. As a drone, in the hive, his dreams were often shared, and rarely were they about anything but gathering. Harvesting. It was with Camille that it changed. It was when he felt those… those odd sparks of love that his mind began to separate from the Hive.

That strangeness only grew since his time spent in Equestria. At first, with Camille, his dreams had been… dark. Literally dark, in the sense of an empty mind. He hadn’t known what to dream. But then, in the darkness…

There were always flowers.

And, eventually, there was her.

At the Hive, they did not notice the lack of input from his mental buzzing. There was so much noise from even birth, and particularly the Joining ceremony, that a single changeling’s mind flickering out of the Hive was lost. He was of noble birth, from the Queen’s Clutch, and thus he found ease, shutting his mind off from the others. Other drones heard the buzzing all their lives, trained to shut the noise off…

But he lived in silence with his thoughts for so long. In silence… In dreams.

And then, the invasion… The horribleness. The sheer hatred in the air every instant. He felt the pain of every pony he had come to infiltrate the hearts of, every pony he had come to… to know.

Of the pony he had come to love.

How could he possibly stay connected to that buzzing? That droning? That… that hatred?

And so he severed his mind. He severed himself from them, severed his very identity and soul from that of the Hive and vowed to never go back. He lived in silence with his own thoughts, mind, consciousness. He thrived. Loved. Lived.

But now…

Now, his mind buzzes. Now, he can feel the buzzing in the air, faintly, and yet it is so loud because it is new. Because he can hear _her._

_You are unworthy. You should be dead. It should have been you._

His tastes sour.

_You are unfit for this duty. You are weak. You are diseased. You are Mouraiie._

He shivers in his sleep, wings buzzing gently against his sides.

_I know you can be a good queen._

When he wakes, it is morning, and he can hear his friend’s voice, like the last remnants of a good dream, fade in his mind as he hears a knock at the door. He stands promptly, seeing that Twilight is already awake. He takes a sharp breath inward and bows his head before changing into the all too familiar guard form he has come to take on for the past few months.

The Princess is here. He must not let his guard slip. He must protect His Queen.

‘His Queen’. Ha.

He could hear her once more. Despite severing himself, despite tearing himself away from who he had been and leaving behind everything he had ever known, despite living in the wonderful, tranquil silence he had come to love!...

He could hear her once more.

His form shifts over his body, and the tears he had shed with the dreams vanish along with the memory of his friend’s voice.

He has a Queen to protect. There is no time for tears now.

*~*~*~

The hoofsteps are loud and clatter throughout the room as ponies, this way and that, dart out of the way of the stallion. A few mutter minor curses at his rushing while others simply dust themselves off and move on. Only the nearby guards who wander the halls seem to take pause when he gallops past them, and those of the most intelligent breed have to question: just why is he in such a rush?

He is an unassuming looking stallion. His hair is white, possibly from age, with just a tint of a minty, faded green. It is short, kept tidy and clean, and his body is a too-dark umber shade, almost black instead, and his amber eyes are narrowed with a determined sheen to them. His cutie mark is of little interest, a simple shield with a crystal inlaid inside. He is a protector, clearly, someone born to protect the ones he loved.

That is why he gallops.

Ponies continue to dodge him, but soon, there are no ponies in his way, yet more guards watch him cautiously. After all, he is headed for a heavily secured area. The most secured area in the entire castle, actually, aside from the places Princess Celestia herself has wards on. This area is, of course, the throne room.

He nears the doors and stands tall, facing the two guards that stare him down. They look at each other and back at him. “I am here to speak with Princess Celestia,” he says, his deep voice steady and sure.

Both guards spread their wings in a way to show the inaccessibility of the room. “Day court had ended for the day,” the guard on the right says gruffly - through no fault of his own, but simply the way his voice has grown after so long of shouting affirmations to his commanding officers. “If you wish to speak with the Princess, you will need to return tomorrow.”

The stallion growls, a sound unheard of from the ponies in Canterlot. The guards both share a look of surprise. He digs his hoof into the tile, hearing the sharp clack of his hoof against the smooth surface. “I will see her. Now. You know not the importance of my calling.”

“We cannot let you speak with the Princess without a proper audience,” the guard on the left says next, growing defensive. Most ponies simply left. This pony was… different, somehow.

“How’s this for a proper audience, you foalish colts?” The stallion steps forward, hunkering down ever so slightly. “A diplomat currently living within the boards of Equestria is on her deathbed and you’re keeping me from discussing the issue with the only mare whom I trust to share the full details with.”

By now, he is in their faces, glaring at them as they tremble from the sheer power of his voice. It was the voice of a stallion with years - decades, no, centuries of experience in making soldiers just like them quiver in fear and obey his orders without the slightest hesitation. He stares them down, command in his eyes before it reaches his mouth. “Now. Let me speak with Princess Celestia.”

“S-She has retired to her room,” the guard on the left says, trembling. “Y-You will have to wait-”

“You’ve wasted enough of my time.” The stallion takes a step back, eyes narrowing. “If an enemy of Equestria is found in the middle of Canterlot Castle, you will have to discuss it with at least one of the princesses that seem to be everywhere in this kingdom. So I’ll get to talk to someone.”

In a flash of light, his disguise falls, his wings sharp and flared out behind him as he lifts his hoof, filled with holes that gradually seemed to be getting smaller these past few weeks, and his amber eyes shining with a challenge. “My name is Tskari. I am the General under the command of Queen Chrysalis. And I demand to see Princess Celestia.”

The guards look at each other before immediately drawing their spears. Tskari makes no move to run or flee. He stares them down and grins, his fangs glinting in the light of the windows around him. “Now this is more like it.”

*~*~*~

The situation is quickly explained the moment the door to Twilight’s closes. The sensation of love hits him in the same instant, powerful and overwhelming. He physically pauses, feeling breathless for a moment.

It is… It is wonderful. Terrifying. It fills him to the core, a burning, spicy taste that sends his heart beating faster, but a cooling, vanilla taste that eases the concern in his body. He drowns in it, wallows in love, he loses himself to the sensation for but a moment - a moment is all he allows because, deep within, the taste stirs something he had grown to forget was there.

Sorrow.

Camille.

He swallows the love and sorrow, letting the flavors mix as Twilight begins to share with Princess Cadance - yes, that was the name this princess went by - a small introduction of who he was. He could not focus on his love now. Time for that when his queen - not _his_ anymore, he has to remind himself - was safe.

Maskra is uneasy to drop his disguise for the mare, especially given the past relations with her… But, surprisingly, Princess Cadance doesn't even flinch when he reveals his true form.

“Princess Celestia never said outright what she did with the changelings her sister captured,” she says softly, “but I always knew she kept them alive. She was distraught after what happened to the drone.”

Maskra nods. He had felt as much in the dungeons from Celestia. Her emotions were… strong, to say the least. “There are many others who chose to stay under the Princess’s rule. Some chose to wander outside the kingdoms instead. None chose to return to Chrysalis.”

Cadance nods, looking between Twilight and Maskra. “And you said in your letter that she’s sick?”

“More than sick,” Maskra says, impatient already with the explanations. “She is Mouraiie, a disease that claims Changelings who stifle emotions. They bond with one singular emotion until they can no longer feel any. Once those are gone, they fade to dust, feeling nothing.”

Cadance nods, concern evident in her eyes and in the air. It is a taste Maskra knows well. “And the emotion she bonded with was love.” She looks at him seriously. “But I thought changelings couldn't-”

“The rumors of our inability to love are evidently greatly exaggerated,” he says dryly. Twilight smiles sheepishly, likely due to the crassness of his response. It is of no matter to him, however; there are far more pressing concerns at the moment than etiquette. “She bonded with the changeling that was killed after the invasion. How do you plan to help? I highly doubt you’ve a talent for necromancy.”

Twilight looks uneasy by his tone, but he doesn’t care. He’s losing patience. It’s something he had in abundance when it was required, but time was not a luxury they had at this moment. They had to heal her, fast, if Changeling kind was ever to be unified with Pony kind.

Cadance seems to agree. “You’re right, I don’t. But there’s more than just romantic love in the world. We just need to help her feel love for other things and show her love in return. We need to surround her in it. She needs to know what she can get from Ponies, and that’s… well. Life.”

Maskra frowns. “And how do we do that? Simply having you around her will let her feel the emotion, but without meaning, it will just be ash.”

Cadance nods. “I considered that. I can explain on the way - we shouldn’t waste any time.” Maskra nods as well - that, at least, he knows for sure. They have to get moving.

Before this disease claims her.

*~*~*~

“Finally,” Tskari says, shifting lightly in his seat as the door opens, revealing not another guard, but a blue furred princess. Luna, then. He frowns when he sees she has not been followed. “Your sister isn’t showing up, then?”

“Silence.” Luna stares him down, nodding to the guards who opened the door. Some of her personal ones, judging from the variant armor they wore. They nod and close the door, leaving him alone with her. Tskari is plainly surprised by this, easily marked on his features. Luna smirks. “What? Didst thou not expect to see us alone?”

Oh, joy. He groans. “Drop the archaic language. I had enough of that with the old queen.” He sits up more in his chair, feeling the restraints on his hooves tug. “You’re obviously safe in here alone with me. My magic’s been dampened by this cheeky little toy on my horn, and I’m tied up. I’m flattered, really, but buy me dinner first.”

Clearly, humor is not what she was expecting. She blinks, processing what he said, seemingly at a lack for words. He just lets her process, relaxing again, sighing boredly. This isn’t what he wants. He wants Celestia, the lenient one, and not the one with trust issues. She shakes her head, finally coming to her senses. “We do not see how-”

“Look. Luna, right?” She stiffens at the informality of his tone. He sighs again. “I have very important business to discuss with your sister about Queen Chrysalis. I really don’t wish to wade through pleasantries of interrogation and the thees and thous.”

Luna blinks and glares at him. “... The guards have already discussed with me your claims.” He sits taller now that she seems to be receptive to his conversation. “You are the general of Chrysalis’s forces, meaning she has broken the terms of the peace acc-”

“I lied.”

She stutters to a stop, putting her raised hoof down. “I… you… What?”

Tskari shrugs as best he can with the restraints still on. “I lied. I retired from my position a little more than a month ago. I am no longer a servant of the Queen and thus I am here in Equestria of my own volition. There is no crime in a singular changeling taking a vacation.”

“But the threat-”

“-was entirely fabricated by the guards who I spoke with. I was arrested, but don’t worry, I don’t mind. It means I actually get to talk to someone official.” His eyes narrow. “Now, can we please discuss the bigger issue of Chrysie dying? Because that’s something I think we all want to avoid - if even just for political reasons for you.”

Luna watches him and her eyes narrow ever so slightly for a moment. “... Very well.” She knocks on the door with her wing. A grunt comes in reply from the lunar guard outside. “Fetch my sister, please. Tell her our guest and I shall be conducting a meeting in the throne room. It is of dire importance.”

“Yes, Princess.”

Tskari shivers as the cool touch of magic pulls his restraints and horn-dampener off. He rubs his hooves softly and stands quickly. “Happy I changed your mind, Luna.”

“You have not changed it.” Luna glares at him. “I still do not trust your motives, or Queen Chrysalis’s, for that matter.” She looks away. “But you clearly care for her as more than a servant, judging from the name you’ve called her. And you seem to be intelligent, at least. Her death would be tragic, and I detect no dishonesty in what you’ve said - despite your nature for falsehoods.”

“Glowing endorsement.”

“Come. We will discuss this with my sister.” Luna’s horn bursts in a flash of magic, and they are suddenly in the throne room. Tskari quickly gets his bearings, looking around rapidly. No danger.

Celestia arrives quickly. She seems unsurprised by Tskari as she walks in. Tskari, however, gasps immediately when he feels it - Luna looks over at him in confusion. He does not notice.

Emotion.

Pure, hot, heart-stopping emotion. His breath stutters to a stop for a moment and his eyes widen. He can sense it, feel it, breathe it, as it all surrounds him in a tidal wave of sensation. He feels, for the first time since he was but a hatchling, weak. He forces his hooves to remain steady as they start to tremble under the force of it all.

Concern. Alarm. Love. Confusion. Trust. Love. Confidence.

So much Love.

He gulps, staring at Celestia, wide eyed. He stands taller, out of respect and surprise. “Princess. My Queen is ill. She needs help.”

Celestia looks at him, directing her attention directly to him, and he struggles to stand tall over the curiosity in the air, the concern dripping off of her. He bows his head, what looks like respect, but is instead a sign of his weakness to this Alicorn’s range of feeling. Why was it affecting him this much? How could it be this powerful?

He feels sympathy in the air. “Please. Explain.” Celestia joins her sister, standing beside her, looking at her now - he can taste confusion, concern once more.

He gulps, keeping his eyes down. “It is a changeling disease. I should have caught it before she left, but I was too confident that I knew what was wrong. She can’t feel anything properly at the moment, and it’s causing her to starve herself.”

“Starve?” Celestia’s eyes widen and he struggles once more to remain steady under the feeling of all of her alarm. That emotion doesn’t fade. “Surely she is receiving love? I understand my little ponies are not the most understanding at times, but there is hardly a lack of love in Ponyville.”

“She isn’t getting any nourishment from the paltry stuff in the air. I can feel it. She’s just turning to ash. She’s clearly Mouraiie, and-”

The reaction is instantaneous. He can feel the dim glimmer of realization, then the full weight of alarm, shock, horror, grief, concern-

His legs buckle as he gasps, kneeling before her. He feels the slight concern from Luna, but god. He can’t breathe. He’s drowning. Celestia steps forward and says something, but he can hardly hear her over the flood of emotion that overtakes him. “H-How,” he chokes out, just making out his own voice. “How are you-”

Understanding. And, suddenly, it all just… feels so much less. He takes a breath. He looks up to see Celestia looking nervous. Feeling nervous. She takes a deep breath and he can feel sympathy. “I apologize. It has been a very, very long time since I have had to contain my emotions. I forget who I talk with.”

She offers a hoof and he gratefully takes it. He licks his lips, still tasting all of the emotions still freshly on his tongue. He looks up at her, questioningly. “How are you that powerful? How do you understand what you do to us?” He pauses. "How do you know what Mouraiie is?"

Celestia glances at him and then at Luna. Her sister seems surprised by the glance, as though they have shared something in that glance. Something secret. Something that had long since needed to be said. Celestia takes a deep breath, looking back to Tskari, and in the look he receives, he realizes this story is only beginning. The words he hears next confirm his suspicions.

“Do you remember Velouri?”

*~*~*~

I feel them before they arrive. This is… startling, I would normally say, in better circumstances. But for now, it is simply a variant of the norm. It is enough to make me turn in my bed, feeling my wings flutter weakly. It is another variant of the norm, as my wings have scarcely moved for hours.

I hear a knock at the door, but I do not have the energy to stand at the moment. I do not have the energy for anything. And yet, despite that, I yearn to stand. There is something I want and I cannot describe the drive that I feel. Part of me aches to move, while the rest of me simply aches.

Soon enough, the door swings open of its own accord. I hear the intruders - guests, I presume, enter. A part of me rankles at the intrusion. The feeling does not immediately escape me, but it, too, fades as I do. But I taste an odd taste. Something flavorful, compared to the ash, the nothingness that has coated my very being. Something… delicious. It fades, but at the same time, I feel a renewal. I shift again.

The hoofsteps come nearer. I see my own door swing open and I feel - my heart skips a beat and my wings twitch - I feel concern.

“My Queen,” a broken voice says. I know this voice. Masquerade. But, in a small burst of color, I know the voice better. “My Queen, you…” My changeling guard hisses softly, raising a wary hoof.

“Chrysalis. Oh, Celestia above, you… There’s so much…” That is Twilight. She has seen the white ash under my body, on the bed, from the holes that are disproportionately large, covering my body, littering it. I can feel, again, the concern in the air. I can taste it, just a little. What has caused this change? I watch as the third pony enters.

I feel my question is answered.

Cadance’s eyes widen as she sees me. “This… is worse than I thought.”

My eyes widen as I see her as well. It is for entirely different reasons.

My body tingles. I can feel the love in the air and, for the first time in weeks, a month? In years. I feel my yearning.

_I want her love._


	10. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In retrospect, all things need time. Growth. Healing. Recovery.
> 
> All we need is time.

He realizes, as he stares into the cup before him, that remarkably, there can be circumstances where he cannot stomach the taste of tea.

“I’ve contacted Shining Armor,” Celestia says upon her return to the table in her sitting room. “As I suspected, Princess Cadance left not long ago for a visit to Twilight. He doesn’t know what is truly happening, but I’ve no doubt that my pupil has called her for assistance. This will buy us time.”

Tskari looks around again as Celestia sits at the table; it is a good distraction from the carefully controlled, but still forceful emotions beside him. The room is a rich, deep purple, with a fireplace nearby, unlit. A lunar banner is nearby, but it is clear from the colors of the room - purple, yellow, blue - that this is a celestial room. Likely, Celestia’s private study. He can see a couch nearby where she regularly sat, but now, they have tea at the table.

“Is it safe to wait any longer?” Luna is asking.

“The Mouraiie have been known to survive for years in their state, especially those who are strong willed. Queen Chrysalis will be safe for now. We still have time.”

“Would someone,” Tskari says suddenly, looking directly at them both, “mind telling me just what is the story here? How do you know how to wipe your emotions in such a way? How do you know what the Mouraiie are? And what does this have to do with Velouri?”

There is a touch of anger in his voice. Luna frowns immediately as she hears it. “I hardly think you are in a position-”

“Luna, please.” Celestia nods to Tskari. “You’ve every right to be angry. I imagine you served under Queen Velouri?”

He smothers the anger in him, cursing internally at his lack of control. Still. It had been a trying day. “Velouri and I born of the same brood. Not hatchmates, mind you - my mother wasn’t anything close to a queen.”

Celestia nods in understanding, a surprise to him, but he supposes that at this point, he shouldn’t be as surprised. “And you remember, of course, the battle?”

He frowns. “Of course. The body count sticks out in my mind the most.” He sighs, shutting his eyes and remembering it. Fighting, changeling verses friend. The changelings had made powerful friends in Equestria in the time they had helped Celestia and Luna build - and those friends had become the worst of enemies in practically a week of betrayals when the invasions began. “I still disagree with her decision. She never should have attacked you. It ruined the entire changeling race.”

“I’m pleased you do not share her penchant for violence,” Celestia says softly, “but there is more I ask you to remember. Did she ever speak of what happened in the castle that day?”

Tskari blinks and thinks back, ages and ages ago. He is certainly no youngling anymore, and it takes a moment of thought. “I recall guarding the throne room while she detained you. I remember trying to fight you, Luna, when you discovered what had happened.”

Luna’s eyes widen. “Truly? You were the guard at the door?”

“I refused to let the changeling I loved leave my side in such an invasion.” Neither seems surprised by his declaration of love. “I can still feel the impact against the wall when I bend the wrong way.” Luna does not show any regret or shame, but he can feel different emotions bleeding off of her as always. She, unlike her sister, cannot block them. He grins sharply, showing off his fangs. “You really find me amusing, don’t you?”

Embarrassment and touches of frustration. Celestia smiles at Luna and puts a hoof on her. “He’s purposely goading you, sister.”

“I know that, Tia. I just don’t appreciate playfulness at this current time.”

Tskari frowns. “She’s right. We’ve important things to discuss. Now.” He leans forward, eyes narrowing, all business now. “What happened in that throne room?”

*~*~*~

I find myself blacking in and out of the conversation as they attempt to get my attention. I can hardly stay awake. I am… so very exhausted. But every second that passes, I feel more and more. Somehow, I am feeling again.

I am in so, so much pain.

I can feel, but all I feel is ache and dread. I know what is to come. It is inevitable, and avoiding it any longer will only hurt more. My love is dead, and my emotions have been buried with him. Nothing can reverse that fact. Nothing can bring him back.

_You don’t deserve to feel anymore._

I know.

“Princess, is this really going to work? She’s… She’s in a really bad state.” That was Twilight speaking. I open my eyes weakly. The world is still dim. There is no color anymore, and everything is blurred. I can see the Princess clearly, however, wrapped in a certain glow. My body twitches slightly and I feel the need to bound up, to feast on her, to take everything. I need to stand, I need to feed, I am _dying_ with need.

But I cannot move. I cannot try. There is no point. She won’t bring him back.

The feeling fades, but the slightest shred of it remains. Longing. Deep, aching longing.

It hurts so very much.

“I-I don’t know, Twilight. It’s so much worse than I thought. Maskra?”

“She’s feeling something again.” His voice makes me feel safer. It fades to ash. “Longing, I think. You might want to stay away from her, Princess. She’s tasting your magic.”

“But is it helping?”

“She wants all of it. She’s been starving, after all. You don’t give a starving person the richest meals. You start them with oats and water.”

He even speaks like a pony. Oats, water. What of meat?

My eyes start to close again, even as I try to will them open once more. I am… ever so tired. The world grows dimmer. As they close and the conversations grow to be simply whispers, I hear buzzing in my ears. It’s… familiar, somehow. I can’t recall exactly what it was, but it brings me comfort. The comfort stays longer this time.

Then it fades to ash, like all else.

“Chrysalis?”

I open my eyes softly. Cadance is talking to Maskra in the corner, whispering. It must be Twilight who stands over me, but I cannot see her clearly at all. It is all blurred. “Chrysalis, please. There’s so much love in the air. Just take it in, bit by bit, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

I try to speak. I try to explain that nothing can be fine. I cannot be fine. You cannot fix that which wants to stay broken. All I manage is opening my mouth and closing it again. It feels dry. I have not fed on or drank of anything in what feels like months. While emotions sustain us, particularly love, we do require other necessities. I have neglected myself.

I _want_ to neglect myself.

_You want to die._

I hear Maskra breathe in sharply and feel him shift his gaze towards me. He darts over, grabbing my hoof. “Damn it, Chrys, fight this!”

My heart pangs. He’s heard me. How… unfortunate. I hardly register his presence, but as he squeezes my hoof, I find, somehow, myself squeezing back.

“Good. Good, c’mon, you have to fight. For Celestia’s sake, fight this.” Amusement - from myself, I am sensing my own emotions now. How remarkable. It fades to ash quickly, but I feel lighter, somehow. Why would Celestia care? I can just barely see him grin. “Good. Good. Keep fighting for me, alright? We’re hatchmates. So you have to listen to me. Don’t you dare, ever think that thought you had again.”

I feel my eyes closing again. As my world fades to blackness once more, I hear him repeating his call to action. Fight this. Keep fighting. I remember the dream I had, what seems like so long ago. Maskra, begging me to fight. I feel like I have been fighting for centuries. Has it truly only been months since my love died? Months can feel like centuries, it appears.

But at least I feel. That is better, I think, briefly. It is better.

And then it all fades again.

“- to Princess Celestia about this.”

My eyes barely flutter open. I want to sleep so badly, but that buzzing and whispering keeps me here. I want to close my eyes and return to nothing. Please, I silently plead. Let me go.

Nobody answers my call, but I do feel the slightest concern spike through the already prevalent concern from Maskra. “She's awake again, but it's dim. I don't know what's happening. She keeps-”

I can no longer listen. I groan as audibly as I can. It is not much, but it is enough. They shut up.

“Please. Be quiet,” I whisper. My voice scratches my throat and pierces the air weakly. “I want sleep.”

“Please, Queen Chrysalis.” I flinch as I feel a surge of love. The Princess. Her latent power is so much. Almost too much. I feel as though I am drowning. “You need rest, but you also need to stay awake. You keep slipping away.” It's too much. I turn my face, shutting my eyes once more.

“Please, Princess, it's too much for her-” Maskra quickly pushes her away. I just make out the conversation they whisper. “I'll get word to them. I'll leave now.”

“Wait,” I say. “Maskra. Please.”

He looks up and comes over again quickly, grabbing my hood as he did before. “My Queen.”

Longing. Resentment. Hope. Fear. So much fear.

So much pain.

I hold it back as best I can. “Thank you. For looking after him.”

“My Queen-”

“No. I'm not your queen. Not anymore. I am his queen and his queen only.” His eyes widen. “I serve Eacko now. He told me I would be a good queen. He knew I could. I will be a good queen for him.”

I'm not sure why that moment was when I had to say that. But I know as the words leave my mouth that they need to be said. Something in me rests easier.

Maskra licks his lips and nods. “Of course, Chrysalis. For Eacko.”

“And Maskra?”

“Yes?”

“Please. Do something about that buzzing.”

*~*~*~

“You know a fair amount of the story already, Tskari.” Celestia sighs softly, her eyes lost in the past. Tskari watches her closely, feeling the emotions she lets slip through her shield. Regret is the strongest, but also a firm sense of loyalty. His respect for the princess grows with each passing moment, he finds. “We were being assaulted on all sides, and Velouri promised aid.”

“From the very start, that was a farce,” Tskari says softly. “All she wanted was ponies for love. She was greedy. We would have been fine had she just given aid as promised.”

Luna scowls. “Instead, she sought to dethrone us through trickery and warfare.”

“She was so much better when she was younger.” Tskari shut his eyes tightly, remembering the fiery young changeling he had been devoted to. “But then, she always had been cunning. She would have made a perfect infiltrator.”

“She issued commands in my name before I was detained,” Celestia continues in a factual tone, eyes shut with a practiced calm. “This led many to die, on both sides of the senseless war, before I managed to confront her. That is when she issued the order to attack.”

“We trapped you in the war room beneath the castle. I remember it well.”

“And I was away, overseeing the chaos of the battles, changelings and ponies fighting alongside each other. Hoping for a better day led to the betrayal that was to come.” Luna looks at Celestia, this time with sorrow rather than anger pouring out of her. “We were so young, Tia. We were so foolish. I was so foolish! When word reached me of ‘your’ orders, I let my distrust get the best of me, and yet I did nothing. I should have come home at my first doubt and freed you-”

“We did our best, Luna. We all did our best.” Celestia sighs. “I regained myself before Luna returned, knowing not how long it had been. I went to the throne room through a secret entrance.”

“I always wondered how you got in. Velouri said you appeared out of the light of the sun.” He smiles fondly, if bittersweetly. “She always had a flair for the dramatic.”

“I confronted her. And… She spoke with me.” Tskari perks up. This is the part he had never known. What Velouri never saw fit to share, not even the council. “I knew of her betrayal now, and she did not see fit to lie to me. She explained what she wanted from this war - love. How taking the throne in my place would give her the love of all of my subjects. How she would rule in my place and how her ponies would thrive alongside her changelings, if I would but abdicate my throne. I refused. Ponies would never love a lie, I said, and she was a queen. Not a princess. She would rule my little ponies as she ruled her changelings. It was a different world altogether. If she only worked alongside us, rather than ruled over us, then things would run smoothly.”

“So set the ponies against the changelings, have a bit of fighting until you abdicate your throne or die, and then ‘miraculously’ the changelings are finished off. When in reality, the changelings join the general population, and now the ponies feel even stronger and empowered after managing to defeat such an unexpected, powerful enemy.” Tskari nods. “She never really fully explained. We just followed her orders.”

“She did not agree with my wishes for peace,” Celestia continues. “She her plan was already in place. The changelings were already attacking. If she could not have their love, then she would take it from me. Until I agreed to her terms, my ponies would die.”

Tskari nods softly as he processes this information. “I heard the call. I refused to go. I stayed to protect my queen. At the time… I even thought she was right. A part of me did, at least.”

“We all grow wiser with time.” Celestia smiles, but the pain she emanates is too strong to hide behind that mask. “Luna commanded the battles. And at home… I refused to fight.”

“Why? You were likely at least equally matched, and the queen would have been distracted by the hive.”

“We were allies. I believed there was a diplomatic way to solve things. I tried to make her an equal, but that failed. I explained to her that my ponies would know the difference, but she took that as an insult to her powers.”

“She would.”

“Luna came even as I pleaded with Velori. I sent out my message to her, not knowing if she would hear - but she did. It took her so little time to get back.”

“About thirty minutes. How on earth did you fly that fast?” Tskari asks softly.

“Magic. I teleported most of the way.” Luna glances at Celestia, nodding. “I received my sister’s message, though it was faint, garbled, and vague. But given the chaos on the fields and the fact that my messages to you had remained unrecognized, I fled to the castle as soon as I heard from you. I arrived and did battle with you, Tskari, and once you were out of the way, I charged into the throne room.”

“Velouri was still in Celestia’s form.”

“No.” Tskari’s eyes widen a little at Celestia’s answer. “Velouri was in her normal form.”

“She said…” Tskari nods. “She lied to us then. About the true events. None of us could ever tell.”

“She did. She did not trick Luna at all. She was very honest about her intentions, actually.”

Luna frowns. “When I saw her, and how drained my sister was from the assault that trapped her, I lashed out. I fought Velouri tooth and nail. But I was still young and inexperienced. She could beat me easily.”

“But when I saw Luna take an immense blow, I could no longer rest idly. I stood and fought, and my attacks caused Velouri to pause. They were fueled by my love for Luna.”

“Together, we beat her back. But she was still strong. We fought ourselves to exhaustion. As we fought, her desperation unfolded.”

“Desperation?” This is the first he is hearing of this. Luna and Celestia look at each other, and Celestia sighs.

“Velouri was dying.”

Tskari feels his heart go cold.

*~*~*~

The council is in disarray.

“We’re trying everything,” Koviska shouts, slamming his hoof down. “Reaching her is nearly impossible, even with the full power of the hive behind it.”

“Clearly, we aren’t trying hard enough.” Charron huffs, shutting their eyes tightly. “We’ve been trying to reach her for weeks now. She hasn't sent us any information. No communications. That was _not_ part of the agreement with the Equestrians!”

“We all know that,” Idarsa hisses, glaring at them from her seat. “We need to go and find out what’s happening-”

“Doing so would break the treaty we’ve formed! We have to follow the Queen’s orders.”

“We still need to be able to communicate!”

“We need to reexamine our moves thus far,” Aizeam chimes in, his voice quivering from the fact that he is speaking for once. “H-How many Changelings-”

“ALL OF THEM!” Aizeam flinches and Charron rolls their eyes. “Man up, you pathetic scout.”

Paerwx sighs heavily. “Let’s not resort to insults, Charron.” They open their mouth to make another hot retort, but Paerwx lifts her hoof and silences them. All of the members follow suit, silent. “We have to keep our heads level if we want to fix this problem. Now. We have all of the Changelings in our lands reaching out. What about those not in our lands?”

The council murmurs with buzzing.

“What do you mean?”

‘You know what I mean, Faeik, of anyling in this room. We know there are Changelings beyond our lands. What of those in Equestria? Or beyond? What of retired Changelings living beyond the Badlands and in hiding?”

“They would have heard our cries,” Koviska replies, though the uncertainty in his voice can be heard by all.

“We’re directing everything at our Queen. Those outside of our lands have steadily disconnected themselves from the mind.”

“Then how are we to reach them?” Idarsa hisses, shaking her head. “This will get us nowhere. They are not our people any longer.”

Paerwx does not answer this. She doesn’t have an answer, yet. Aizeam clears his throat. “I. I have. A risky idea.”

“Of course he does.”

Aizeam does his best to brush off Charron’s words, but his nervousness is nonetheless felt by all in the room. “Well. There… is the possibility of a specific group of changelings that. That could reach her.”

“Who?” Koviska frowns. “We’ve got everyone.”

“No, actually,” Aizeam says quickly, his confidence growing as the council gives him their attention. “What of our Queen’s hatchmates?”

There is a brief silence. Paerwx buzzes thoughtfully, her emotions secret, as ever. “We would need to locate them. Shasria should be easy.”

“I'm grateful now that we didn't execute her for her insolence,” Idarsa says begrudgingly, “though I know we all thirsted for her blood.”

“Our Queen was smart to keep her alive,” Paerwx agrees. “Who else from her clutch can we track down?”

“There is Swille, the Architect.” There's a few murmurs. A changeling from a Queen’s brood that started as a mere digger. They all should have known he would become an Architect, dictating the design of the ever shifting Hive. He was brilliant. “I’m sure we could contact him fairly easily.”

“Ocura is on assignment in an undisclosed location,” Faeik chimes in. “She’s not due back for another week, but if we remind her of her duty to her Queen…”

“She would come quickly.” Paerwx frowns. “There were two others.”

“One is a traitor and one willingly killed himself to save our Queen from her disgrace,” Charon says bitterly. They sigh. “We will be unable to reach them.”

Faeik hums. “An easy solution for one single traitor. I'll send Ocura to gather him. We will make an example of those who betray us. He will work with once in his last moments.” There is a cold calm in his voice that leaves few doubts in the councils mind who Tskari’s predecessor shall be.

“And what of the Royal guard who gave his life?”

“We can worry about him once we gather the others. Perhaps having those scattered changelings will give us the volume we need to make our Queen hear us.” Paerwx buzzes thoughtfully, and once again marvels at her ability to withhold her own emotions from others. She thanks the Queen Mother that the others cannot feel her uncertainty. “All in favor of this plan?”

Every changeling agrees.

“Then let us adjourn.”

*~*~*~

“Velouri lived for centuries after that day,” Tskari denies, eyes narrowing. “I feel she tricked you again.” But one did not need to be a changeling in order to recognize the doubt in his voice.

“Think of it, Tskari. One young Alicorn, inexperienced and having used her magic extensively to return home, and one hardly grown Alicorn that had been apprehended by the Changelings. You know the effect your magic has on us.” Tskari bites his lip. Disorienting, magic dampening powers. “If she was as strong as a Changeling Queen should be, at her age and power level? You would not be speaking with us today.”

“I… I don't understand. How did she-”

“It will make sense in time, Tskari, if you'll let us explain?”

He gently relaxes himself, forcing himself to remain calm. He is angry that Velori kept this from him, pained by the memory of her lies. He feels his sorrow strongly. “Okay. Alright. I'm sorry.”

He can feel the slightest bit of hastily bitten down sympathy from Luna. She does not feel his gratitude.

Celestia sighs. “She told us she was dying. We didn't believe her at first, but she explained her failing magic and limited abilities. She said that the love she had been receiving wasn't enough to sustain her any longer. She shifted form before us.”

“She was disguised?”

“As herself.” Tskari huffs in surprise. “Her body was decaying. The holes were wide gashes and her wings were damaged.”

“We all gave her the love we gathered. We were prosperous.”

“She couldn't survive on it.”

“The way she explained it to us,” Luna says, “was that the love sustained her for a shorter time than it should have. It didn't last long enough.”

“She seemed fine. The hive was well fed. Why didn't she take more if she was so hungry?” But he knows the answer already.

“She refused to take it from her subjects. And thus, in a desperate move, she sought to steal the love of all of Equestria. She could not tell the council, because it was clearly some sort of deficiency. She would be dethroned.”

Tskari wants desperately to deny it, but… he knows his people. Sometimes he even finds himself hating their traditional ways. This is one of those times. “I would have protected that secret. I protected her in everything, why didn't she trust me?”

The two others at the table let the conversation fall and leave their conversation partner to digest his grief.

It doesn't take long. He breathes and accepts the past. After all, there is nothing he can do to change it. “Okay… I believe you. You’ve got no reason to lie to me, and she did.”

“She couldn't trust anyone, Tskari. She did what she had to do, in her eyes, to protect her subjects.” He nod, seeing the truth in Celestia’s words. “She told her story to us. And said she would stop at nothing to take my ponies love.”

“We did not _want_ another war,” Luna says. “And the battles were already taking their toll on both sides. But we also could not allow her to take the throne.”

“Did you fight?”

“No. We… negotiated.” Tskari raises a brow. “Surely there was a way we could collect the love our ponies provided? Give that love to Velouri somehow, without this senseless fighting.”

Tskari is forming an idea. A terrible idea, certainly, but the only explanation that the pieces fit into perfectly. His eyes widen and he looks shocked. He feels the briefest emotion from Celestia as she recognizes his understanding, a fleeting taste of resignation, but combined with even the slightest bit of pride. It only confirms what he thinks.

“You didn’t.”

“I had to,” Celestia says softly. “It was the only way she would survive, and I am a peaceful being. Or at least I try to be.”

“We couldn’t let her die. I protested, but it was weak. It seemed to be, at the time, the only way for us to make amends and stop fighting on another front.” Luna huffs and looks away. “I still regret letting my sister take that upon herself, especially in a weakened state.”

“You were younger, and we both know how bad it was for us, back then. How much I coveted the attention and love of our subjects.” Pain. Regret. Immense, drowning sorrow. Tskari drinks it in slowly, in pieces, to try and siphon some from the ponies before him. They need relief after all this time. “I was the only one who could do it.”

“She really…”

Celestia smiles softly and stands, ruffling her feathers slightly. “She did.” Before his eyes, Celestia focuses her magic, and he sees the shift plain as day. It is unlike how changelings shift; after all, Celestia is not a changeling.

Not fully, at least.

She sighs as she shifts, opening her eyes. There’s a touch of changeling in those eyes that Tskari immediately notices; the purple color is not quite natural for his race, but certainly for her, it fits. Her fur has shifted into chitin, black, as any changeling has - but it is shining, and her body is completely unmarred by holes. She is sleek, beautiful by any standards. Most notable is her mane and tail, however, and her wings. Her mane and tail have shed her rainbow coloration, taking a pink hue unnatural for changelings in any regard, and her wings share a similar color, translucent and practically sparkling.

Tskari shivers as he feels it.

Relief. Joy. And so much love.

“You’re part-changeling.”

“Linked to Velouri. I took part of her magic and we linked. I think it nearly killed me, but I am an alicorn, after all. I handled it well.” She nods, stretching softly. “The love I gathered, she felt. I sustained her, and in exchange, I received a direct connection to the changelings. I began to understand your race more. I connected to her mind more than once. The hive mind is an intriguing thing.”

Tskari licks his lips, feeling sick to his stomach. Her understanding of Changeling culture, the immense control over her emotions as well as the strength of the feelings she felt… He curses softly and runs a hoof through his hair. “You’ve always been one. Ever since then, you were a Changeling.”

“Part-changeling,” she reminds him. “I was closer when Velouri was alive. I felt it when she passed. The entirety of your race mourned. I did as well. She had, by then, grown closer to me. We were friends. I find I still miss her, some days. Now that she’s gone, I can barely keep in touch with the hivemind.”

“How did you survive the Canterlot invasion? The blast of love?”

“I will admit, it hurt. But I’m more pony than changeling. I never even shift anymore - not fully, anyways.”

“And the trap? You were captured. You would have been able to escape.”

“Not without revealing myself. I’m shocked that Chrysalis didn’t realize I awoke far earlier than I should have.” She sits and glances at Luna. “Nor did she recognize where so much of her power comes.”

“She’s from Velouri’s clutch,” Tskari says with a soft, disbelieving laugh. “You’ve been feeding her since day one. Just a little. Her and all of her hatchmates.”

“There’s a reason all of those changelings are so special. They’re the first that have been fed a direct link of love from their very birth. Granted, it’s diluted between however many hatchlings she had.”

“Six.” Five, now, but he’s too shocked to recognize that right now. He shakes his head, blinking. “What’s with the hair,” he finally says, just to distract from his thinking.

She laughs. “This is natural, actually.”

“You mean-”

“Tia likes the rainbow color, and why not use her powers to alter herself ever so slightly?” Luna raises a brow at Celestia. “You’d think you would slim yourself a little.”

“Lulu!”

Tskari shakes his head. “So… You know how to help Chrysalis because you. You’ve been feeding her since birth, without even knowing. You know about the Mouraiie.”

“I did as much research as I could on changelings after I received Velouri’s gift. I discovered how to cure the Mouraiie. I know how to help her.”

“How?”

Celestia frowns and shifts slowly back to her normal state. Shaking her head, she hums thoughtfully. “You’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“She’s going to need time.”


	11. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all seek just one thing in life. It is not love - it is something different. Something more.

I open my eyes again and, for the first time since I first laid down however long ago, I feel awake.

It’s late, I can tell. It is a cloudless night and Luna’s moon has risen high in the sky, casting rays throughout the room and over my bed. As I sit up, I look around, wincing in pain. My body aches, but I feel far more aware than I have been in so long. I need to be active, if just for now. I take in the now empty room and process for a moment.

The world comes flooding back, or at least the time that has passed since I last rose from my sleep. Cadence. Maskra. Twilight.

They called upon Cadence to help me. I worked that much out from their conversations and the presence of the Princess of Love. They were concerned enough about me that they called upon the very Princess I once so foolishly impersonated. What a pity that it would be in vain - it had to be.

I try to stand and nearly collapse. My legs no longer have enough substance to hold me up. I gently sit back on the bed, shivering. I am so terribly cold. The air… well. Goes straight through me.

I’m still alone, at the moment. They must all be busy running their various errands for my health. It gives me time to think, and I suddenly find that I can. I can think. I can feel. That fact should be startling, but… I still cannot feel as much as I’m certain they would like. It’s not startling at all. It’s just… fact.

I can recognize many facts.

I am Mouraiie. That fact is well known to me now. I am likely surviving off of my love for Eacko. How… bleak. I rest my head on the pillows once more and breathe slowly, trying to ignore the agony of my bones. Nothing is going to make the pain fade now. Not rest. Rest did nothing.

Eacko’s love. What an emotion to cling to! I should have seen the signs. Nevermind that the Mouraiie was half considered myth at this point. No changeling had been considered Mouraiie since my mother’s reign, at least. But nonetheless, here I was, rotting in place, hardly able to move, longing for that feeling I would never feel again.

Love. His love. I would never get it again, and the weight that fact held was going to crush me.

That, too, was a fact I knew with certainty.

I shut my eyes and long for that moment, not long ago, when I was at peace. When I no longer felt this pain. Sometimes, the numbness is better than the pain. Even if it means I will soon waste away to nothing.

The nothing was better than the pain. The pain of fact.

I blankly feel tears on my face, tracing lines in the ash of my skin.

*~*~*~

She tears at the chains wildly, snarling and hissing as the guards come near. Her hair is in disarray. Her body is wasting slowly away, ever so slowly, from the lack of love. Her wings droop, the holes in her body are larger, and her eyes lack their shine. However, they still hold their fire. Her stay in the hardly used dungeons of the Hive has wreaked havoc on her physicality, but it would take much longer to touch her spirit.

“Settle down!” One of the guards calls.

She simply lashes out again in response, feeling the chain around her neck tug as she lunges toward the guard. The guard, to their credit, does not flinch. Well trained pup, she thinks with a growl.

“We are bringing you to the council,” the other says calmly, the distaste just barely evident in his voice. “Your presence is needed.”

“Have those larval cowards finally decided to kill me?”

“The council will discuss with you their intentions. Now behave yourself.”

Shasria considers her options quickly, mind racing. They wouldn’t be killing her like this - they would have had the guards finish her off while she was powerless anyways. She wasn’t good for a public execution, not after being held captive for so long. That meant they honestly needed her for something. Had Chrysalis changed her mind?

Shasria spits on the ground at the thought of helping that prideful failure. Once upon a time, Shasria looked up to Chrysalis, had revered her, but now that pathetic excuse for a queen is dead to her. “I will not go with you,” she says scathingly, biting at the words with the spirit she always had since birth. A small smile, as ever, touches at her lips.

She then screams as they electrocute her with their staves, rendering her quickly unconscious.

*~*~*~

Twilight is scared.

That thought doesn’t startle her in the slightest. Things are going exceptionally poorly with Queen Chrysalis, and that fact is undeniably scary. What started as a diplomatic mission has become a situation of life and death, something that Twilight certainly hadn’t been prepared to deal with when she signed up for this.

Well. That’s a lie.

Twilight had signed up for this. When she agreed to look after Chrysalis, she had known things would be hard. She had been scared then, too. She had been scared of what the ponies would think. Of what Chrysalis would think.

Of what she herself would think.

Twilight has come to face some… difficult truths about her own race since Queen Chrysalis arrived. She already knew how hard it was for ponies to accept change, or things that were different. She had seen that already in the past. But Chrysalis is very different… She isn’t rumored to be evil. She is evil - well, was. She was the one to threaten all of Canterlot, to steal their love. And ponies that were scared, or even angry… They can do hurtful things.

Scary things.

Twilight is still scared, after everything. She has been scared since Chrysalis came here. She has pushed it as far down as she can in the hopes that Chrysalis can’t feel it. She works through it, doing her best in this situation, hoping so strongly. She hopes the hope is strong enough to hide the fear.

It works for her, at least. She’s managed to hide it from herself up until now.

Now, Twilight’s scared all over again, up on the surface, and she can’t hide from her late night thoughts. She’s scared that Maskra won’t be able to get to the princesses in time to tell them what has happened. She’s scared that Princess Cadence, sleeping nearby Chrysalis’s door, is still too overwhelming for the changeling. She’s scared that. That Chrysalis may die.

Something registers in her brain as she stays awake longer, her thoughts sticking on that last fear. She’s scared Chrysalis might die.

She’s scared for so many reasons. Scared that the changelings will attack if she dies. Scared that the princesses will blame her if she dies. Scared that Chrysalis dying will be her fault for not doing more.

She is scared Chrysalis might die because… well. Because Chrysalis is her friend.

So many days spent trying to socialize her into this culture. Nights spent poring over books on Changelings, trying to piece together lost histories and half truths. Long conversations between her and Chrysalis, or her and Maskra, or her and her other friends, all about how things were going with the ponies and with Chrysalis and just... her entire life as of late has become helping Chrysalis feel like she belonged.

Is it too much to hope for that Chrysalis sees her as a friend in return?

She turns in her sleep on the couch, eyeing the door to Chrysalis’s room. She needs to sleep. Not sleeping won’t help anyone. But it is hard when her friend is possibly dying next door.

And there really isn’t anything more she can do than be there for her. Twilight has magic, but she can’t have changeling magic. She can’t understand changeling magic, at least not yet. All she understands is that Chrysalis needs love, in all its forms, if she is ever going to have a fighting chance.

“I love you,” she whispers softly, but with the heartfelt determination of someone who will never stop fighting. “And we’re going to get through this.”

She rests a little easier, though sleep will elude her for hours more.

~*~*~*

She isn’t supposed to enter Equestrian territory. But what the ponies didn’t know won’t hurt them, and they will never find her. They haven’t after this long, after all.

Well. It will hurt one pony, she supposes. She considers him a pony, now.

Maskra won’t travel by train. No, not when he can fly. He speeds as fast as he can to try to get to Canterlot, to the Princesses. Princess Celestia, at the least, will need to be alerted. Princess Luna, she will be busy with her nightly duties. She can wait until morning. But they will both be told as soon as it is smart to tell them. As soon as possible.

His first mistake is flying too low. His disguise offers him a false sense of security, but the emotions he leaks can alert his tracker from miles away. He’s grown terribly lax with his emotional control since switching sides.

His second mistake is stopping for a moment to catch his breath. He isn’t used to flying such long distances in his disguise, especially after such a long day - or at least, a draining day. An Alicorn can do this easily. A changeling in disguise? Not as much.

His final mistake is failing to listen closely. The buzzing is loud, after all, from her mind.

He gasps in surprise and then pain as a hoof wraps around his neck, pulling him back and choking him. He starts to perform a roll, but with what she’s learned from her numerous interactions with the guards, she can predict that action easily. She quickly casts a sealing spell, locking Maskra in place.

“God, what the hell are you wearing?”

Maskra stiffens when he hears her voice. He shifts immediately. “Ocura?”

She laughs. “It’s been Ginny for months. But yeah.” She pulls away to look at him seriously, eyeing him up and down. “You look disgusting.”

“Thanks for that.”

She shrugs and focuses up her magic once again, this time to send a message through the already clouded hive mind. Though, being an Infiltrator of her rank, it is far easier for her to get through to her commanders. It is now that Maskra hears the buzzing, causing him to pause. “There. They know we’re coming.”

“What? No. Ocura, I have a job-”

“You had a duty to your people, and you betrayed them.” She grins as Maskra closes his mouth. “Now you’re going to serve them one last time.”

“You aren’t my people anymore,” he says seriously. Ocura freezes a little when she hears this. “I’m a traitor. I serve Princess Celestia.”

Her eyes narrow and she looks away, clearly hurt by his words. “Liar,” she says softly.

Maskra softens a little. “That old game? Ocura, you stopped playing that years ago.”

“Liar.” She shakes her head. “I still play it. With the people who are still around.”

He sighs and looks down. “I’m sorry.” There is no response from the changeling in front of him, and he knows it’s because she doesn’t want to say “truth.” He smiles a little sadly. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ocura. But I need to get to the Princesses. It’s about the Queen.”

Ocura hesitates and huffs. “I’m not letting you go crawling to the pony princesses.”

“Please-“

“You can talk to me on the way and explain yourself. You can tell me why you abandoned us. But know this, you cockroach.” He winces. “You’re the property of the hive now.”

“Ocura-”

“Oh shut up!”

One spell later, and Maskra is down for the count, at least for now. He will wake up along the way, Ocura knows. Then, he can explain himself.

*~*~*~

“PLEASE tell me you all saw Princess Cadence fly in!”

The five of them are grouped up in Pinkie Pie’s room. Rainbow Dash gently moves Gummy out of her mane as she continues. “Because that seriously can’t be good.”

“I-I’m sure if something were wrong, Twilight would tell us,” Fluttershy says. She flicks her tail gently. “There’s no sense getting all worked up.”

“Fluttershy is right, dear, this could just be. A… A check in! Yes! You know how much Princess Cadence has been wanting to visit Twilight.”

“When Twilight's taking care of the Changeling that nearly ruined the princess’s special day?” Applejack frowns.

Rarity huffs a little as she straightens some of Pinkie’s confetti. “Well. Perhaps Chrysalis is finally going to apologize.”

“I doubt it. Chrysalis doesn’t really seem to be the saying sorry type.” Applejack takes off her hat and sits it next to her with a sigh. “Do y’all think this might be. Y’know? About how weird she’s been acting?”

“O-oh. I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Uh, yeah we noticed. She’s been such a downer lately! I’ve been on constant rainbow duty lately trying to cheer her up for Twilight!”

“I’ve been sendin’ some of our best jam down to her, but I haven’t heard anything back.”

“When me and my animals visit, she just seems so… sad.”

“I will admit, she has been rather… oh, how shall I say this. Dreary? Whenever I visit to show her the outfits I’ve designed for her and her entourage.”

“FOUND IT!!!” All of them jump in surprise as Pinkie makes her appearance from behind a wall of balloons in the corner. “Goodness golly that took WAY too long!”

“Er. What did you find?” Applejack asks hesitantly, rightfully so.

“Chrysalis’s file!” She drops it on the floor with a soft thump. “It’s still a work in progress, but I think I’ve done good so far! Her birthday is April 22, she likes buttercream frosting on strawberry cake, she HATES balloons - I know, total weirdo - and she has like a kajillion siblings!!! So I would have to make a pretty big cake.”

“... Pinkie, not that this isn’t.” Rainbow struggles for her words. “... Totally weird... But why do you have a file on Queen Chrysalis?”

Pinkie opens her mouth, but Applejack quickly puts her hoof there to stop that explanation. “I think what Dash means is, why were you looking for it in the first place?”

“Oh yeah. That. I mean that.”

“Oh!! Well. Chrysalis has been super sad lately, right? And I’m the Element of Laughter, riiight? Which means it’s totally my job to make her laugh and smile and be happy again, right???!” Pinkie bounces with excitement, but frowns as she flips the next page. “I just wish I knew more about her! She’s not the most open to friendship.”

“Tell me about it!” Rainbow crosses her hooves, fluttering her wings anxiously “I mean. I get what we're trying to do here, and. I know that making friends with Chrysalis will be good for her. But am I the only one who’s questioning what’ll happen if this is just another trick?!”

The five fall silent again for a second as they all recognize their agreement with her statement. Rarity shakes her head. “Well. We must put our fears aside.”

“Ugh. But that’s so hard! She’s a Changeling! You know, become the people you love and try to steal your love for them?? What if she replaced one of you!!”

“Now, Rainbow Dash, we gotta keep our heads on straight. She came here seeking us for help!”

Rainbow sighs and flops into a pile of pillows that Pinkie has prepared for that sort of thing. “I know. I’m just. Not really used to the evil villain honestly wanting to change.”

“None of us are,” Fluttershy chimes in gently. “But it… is kind of nice to have somebody want to reform for a change.”

“Do you think it’s too early to throw her a birthday party 209 days in advance?”

“Maybe just a touch premature, darling.”

“Rats. A good birthday party always cheers me up!” Pinkie sits and noses through the file. “Y’know what I just don’t get? She’s tooootally obsessed with this one changeling guard!”

“What??” None of them know of this.

“Yeah!! I mean she doesn’t mention it much but I was talking to Maskra and he kept mentioning-“

“Maskra? Who’s that?”

“Oh it’s Chyrsalis’s private guard who’s a Changeling in disguise that works for Princess Celestia because he prefers being a pony.”

The four others blink. “Pinkie Pie. Please. Warn us before you drop surprises like those.”

“Oopsies. I guess that was supposed to be a secret. Don’t worry, Princess Celestia knows!!”

“How do you know???”

“Oh Dashie, I saw him change silly! The Pie has eyes everywhere.” She mimes a little periscope, eyes landing on the file again. “But I was talking to him, and he totally kept mentioning this guard, and it toootally seems like Chrysie is head over hooves completely and totally in love!!”

“But I thought changelings couldn’t feel love?” Applejack frowns and looks puzzled. “But commin’ out of my mouth, it sounds like a whole sack of horseapples. Why, everybody’s gotta feel love!”

“M-Maybe Changelings. Normally don’t?”

“Well Maskra always talks about how Changelings aren’t supposed to be able to but I think that he thinks that Chrysalis does, and that she loves this one Changeling guard! And he’s always talking about how that other changeling draws her all the time and how much he loves her and how they would’ve been great!”

“You certainly do talk to him plenty,” Rainbow says with confusion. “He barely talks to me.”

Pinkie shrugs with a smirk. “I’ve got the magic touch.” Rainbow does snicker at that. Pinkie resumes her puzzled look, sighing. “What I don’t get is, why doesn’t she just ask him out? I mean. Getting a special somepony? Someling? That’s gotta cheer you up!”

Rarity frowns as Applejack speaks. “Sugar, I don’t think it’s as easy as that. I reckon she would’ve asked him out already if it were.”

“Maybe changelings aren’t allowed or something?”

“Probably not, Dash.”

“Oh stars,” Rarity says with a stunned gasp. Everyone turns to her. Her white fur has somehow gone paler. “Oh my dear sweet Celestia, how did we never put the pieces together?”

“What is it? Is it a puzzle? Do you think a puzzle will make her happy?”

“No, Pinkie, dear. It’s. The guard! She was in love with a guard, who loved her back. Oh, star crossed love, and they couldn’t show it!” Rarity’s eyes begin to water. “Oh, how atrocious. How dramatic.”

“Uh, is this just a hopeless romantic kinda thing? Cause I don’t get it.”

“Oh, Rainbow Dash, think! Twilight said it was unheard of for a changeling to sacrifice themselves like that for their queen. What sort of changeling would do that?”

It hits them all at the same time. Rainbow Dash looks stunned. Applejack and Fluttershy both cover their mouths. Pinkie Pie deflates some, sorrow clear on her face.

Rarity sniffs and pulls a tissue out of the air, levitating it to Fluttershy, who is also tearing up. “All this time. No wonder she’s depressed!”

“A-And he gave his life for her!” Fluttershy is now fully weeping now. Applejack gently rubs her mane to provide what comfort she can.

RImbow Dash sniffs a little and wipes away a stray tear before shooting back up into the air. “Dang it! That does it! Pinkie Pie, we’ve GOTTA make her feel better!”

“I-I’m not even sure how!!”

“Well, we’ve certainly got to try our best!”

These 5 ponies spend the rest of their night planning, devising ways to give their newfound friend the love she deserves. They’ll be there to help her, to be kind with their love, and generous with their gifts, and honest with their words, and loyal with their hearts, and all with a smile on their faces.

These 5 ponies represent something few can obtain, and something ill defined. Love.

These 5 ponies won’t know about the gathering halfway across town until it’s far too late. A handful of ponies, concerned for their wellbeing, also meet.

“I know what I saw, it was Princess Cadence!” Bon Bon huffs. “She went straight to that house.”

“That can't be good,” Time Turner mumbles. “Why would the Princess be here?”

“And why her??” Lily asks desperately. “W-Why not Celestia? Is something wrong?”

“She’s the Princess of Love,” Bon Bon says, attempting to be helpful.

“Yeah, who shouldn’t be anywhere near a Changeling!” Lyra says in a loud whisper. None of them quite know why they’re whispering.

“W-We all remember what happened last time,” Twinkleshine says, shivering. Minuette shivers as well, and Bon Bon gently puts her hoof on Lyra’s back to comfort her.

Lyra shakes her head. “I’m not getting brainwashed again.”

“N-Now now, nopony said we were,” Minuette says gently.

“But she’s already taken Princess Cadence’s form once! There’s no saying she won’t again.”

“Lyra, surely Twilight would put a stop to anything that could potentially happen,” Time Turner says cheerfully. “She wouldn’t let Ponyville suffer.”

“And who’s to say Twilight isn’t already brainwashed? We’ve seen how she’s been acting. Her and all of her friends, buddy buddy to her! What if they’re all being charmed by her changeling magic?”

“Honey, I really don’t think-“

“I know! I know.” Lyra is trembling slightly. “I’m just. I’m scared.”

Nopony has a response. They’re all scared too.

The fear around town heightens during the night. The three bridesmaids are not forgotten in the minds of Ponyville that night, and the fear of the unknown has always caused people to lash out.

There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of men.

For the record, prejudices can kill, and suspicion can destroy; and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own.

*~*~*~

Swille sits, his mind lost in a blueprint only he could see. It was one in his mind. There are many windows, enough to let natural light in. And ramps. The path leading the Queen’s throne room has far too many stairs. Certainly, a Changeling who can't even walk up stairs likely has no purpose any longer, but won’t it be better for the hive to not have to confront that issue at all?

Truly, he thinks ahead in all cases. So the hive doesn’t have to.

He smiles to himself, breathing in and relaxing. It isn’t often he gets to relax. Not that now is particularly relaxing, stuck in a meeting room by himself while he waits for whoever else is coming. But he can sit and think about his work. That usually relaxes him. The monotony, the silence except for the sound of what he makes with his own hooves… Definitely helps him to think more clearly.

He thinks about all of the changes he’ll be making to the hive, once the ponies agree to help them. He knows they’ll agree, of course - why wouldn’t they? Swille only has what he knows from the Changelings, but he has… well… other sources too. And who’s to notice when a single architect takes a well deserved break after years of hard, willing service? And who’s to notice when a single architect decides to stray a little too close to Equestria?

The ponies are kind. He knows that. They’ll accept, and relations with them will eventually ease and tempers will simmer. He has faith in that fact. He smiles more to himself, a contentedness easing its way through his body. He’ll need to have places to serve real food made, of course - ponies enjoyed eating! Oh, and much, much more natural light. He’s already been doing his best on that front now, but oh, when the Equestrians come to visit.

He’s going to have so much fun making everything perfect for everyone. That’s what Swille does.

The sound is broken by what can only be described as snarling as the door bursts open. Swille, naturally, screams and jolts out of his silence, flittering out of the way of the creature they throw into the meeting room with him. His eyes widen as he sees her on the ground, panting and nearly frothing with rage, disheveled and clearly nearly starved to death. “Oh. Oh g. G. Gods.”

He flushes a little as Shasria barks a disgusted laugh. “Great. The stuttering Architect.”

“Shasria… You’re still chained.”

She struggles up to a standing position. Swille tries to move forward to help, but… he’s frozen. He hasn’t seen her in… in such a long time. Of course he’s stuck. He is often stuck - even, as Shasria pointed out, on words and letters and thoughts and feelings all combined into language. “Of course I am. They would never let me loose.”

“But you’re here. Why would the g. Guards. Let you-”

“You didn’t get the memo. We’re here helping Chrysalis.”

Again, he tenses up further, his wings buzzing nervously. This is already far too much excitement for one day. “You r-really shouldn’t say the name of the Queen. It isn’t p. P. It isn’t proper.”

She spits at his hooves, glaring. “I don’t give a single solitary fu-”

“Shasria!”

“I don’t care!” She stamps, growling, taking a step forward toward him. He flinches. “She failed, don’t you realize?! She failed us with her most recent failed last ditch effort, and guess what?!” She laughs, bitterly, miserably, but filled with some deep feeling Swille can’t feel. “She’s going to fail at this last ditch effort too. I’m just sad I won’t be there to see her die.”

Swille’s wings and Shasria’s panting are the only sounds in the meeting chamber. He buzzes nervously, feeling very little of the normal comfort the fluttering gives him. He bites his lip, trying to grasp at the right words for the situation, but he’s always struggled so much with words. There’s a reason he’s a background worker, one who isn’t public facing. Not like Shasria.

“Oh stop with that racket. What are you? A moth? A bee?” She snorts at her own insult.

“Shasria.” She stands a little taller as he says her name, his voice betraying his emotions as it always has. He’s never been good at hiding them, but thankfully, they’re usually hard to read. “What… What happened to you?”

“I realized the futility of it all. What’s your excuse?”

“What??”

“Why did you change? Why did you become weak?” She glares, briefly, before turning and walking over to a place to sit. She sits and breathes out ever so softly in relief. Swille can hardly remember a time she was this… vulnerable isn’t the word. He knows better words, he’s sure.

Unguarded is the only thing he can think. But that has unfortunate connotations now.

He gulps and tries to force his wings to stop. They don’t. They never listened to him well. He takes a deep breath instead and takes a brave step forward. “Shasria. I. I d-didn’t change.”

“Of course you did. We all did,” she says softly but with the same fire.

“No. I. I always was like this. Nervous and buzzy and not fit for more.” He’s surprised he got that far without messing up. She seems to be too. “Maybe everyone else changed. B-but not me.” His voice is softer now, barely a quiet, anxious whisper, and the stuttering’s returned.

She scoffs again. “Whatever. None of this matters anyways. They’re going to use us and then it’s back to the dungeon for me. Yay, rats.”

“There aren’t any rats in the d-dungeon,” Swille mumbles.

“What?”

“There aren’t. I um. Make sure to patch the holes in the walls when I feel the integrity shift.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He does, sighing and moving to sit across from her on the far side of the room. He’s too scared to get close. He’s always been scared of her, a little. But who could blame him? Shasria is a force to be reckoned with. She’s always had a spark, a fire, but after the failed invasion, it turned into an inferno. Swille had once admired, desperately, that fire. Now he was too scared of being burned.

They sit in silence together as they wait. Swille doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, but the presence of Shasria doesn’t settle his fluttering stomach any. But his wings do eventually relax and droop to his sides, and his breathing evens out. His mind goes to the dungeons.

Time to patch the hole in the right-hoof side of Cell 22B, before a small Lantern Fly got in and set fire to the place.

The next one to walk into the meeting room is… regular. A regular seeming changeling guard. “Attention.”

Swille stands immediately to full attention, as is proper. Shasria stares blankly at the wall she’s been staring at this entire stretch of silence. The guard eyes her but doesn’t say anything. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ve been instructed to relay important information from the Queen.”

“Oh d-dear.”

“This oughta be good,” Shasria mumbles.

The guard clears his throat. “The Queen wishes to inform you that you’re both complete morons for not seeing through this disguise already. And that you’re doo-doo heads.”

Shasria looks up sharply and Swille takes a second to process why the Queen would say something so immature. Shasria groans. “Ocura.”

Ocura drops the disguise and laughs, shifting to a taller, masculine form. “Oh, you’re just jealous, blasphemer. How’s life in the dungeons.” Shasria starts to growl. “Ooo, feisty.”

Swille steps between them. “Ocura, Shasria, p. P. Please?” He means to sound powerful, but it comes out pleadingly due to his fear.

“Whatever.” Ocura sits where Swille was sitting previously. Then, Ocura groans, stretching his wings. “Gods, took me ages to warp here. Architect! Get your workers on the warps. They’re listing a bit to the left.”

“Oh. Of course, Ocura.” He makes a mental note to do so while Ocura laughs.

Shasria sighs. “He’s joking, mothball. It’s a joke.” Swille simply flushes. Shasria glares at Ocura, standing now. “Why are you here? Why are they gathering us?”

“Confidential.”

“Ocura, we’re both stuck in this room together. Just tell me.”

“Oh, I’m not stuck. I’m here willingly, same as our buzzy boy here. It’s just you in the chains here, remember? Or did you already forget your little tantrum?”

Shasria hisses and Swille tries to step between the two of them again. “P-Please, d-d-d-”

He’s shoved aside as Shasria moves forward, dragging the chains behind her. He tries not to whine. “Oh, no, it’s hard to forget when you’re choking on a leash that you’re nothing more than a dog now. You’d know all about that.”

Ocura lounges, smirking. “Oh, I do. I’m the loyal dog of the Infiltrators. But I’m top dog, and you’re just the local bit-”

Shasria snarls and goes to leap at him. Swille yelps. “Please stop fighting!!” He panics and blasts the end of Shasria’s chain, sealing it to the ground with a simple sealant. She gasps in pain as it tugs at her neck, leaving her just out of reach of the still smirking changeling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I couldn’t let you j-just j-jump him like that, he’s our friend!”

Shasria snarls at him. “He’s not our friend! He’s a slave! He just follows his orders blindly, just like you.”

“That’s not true!”

Ocura snorts. “Liar.”

“I-It’s not!” Swille tries his best to look mad, because he is. His wings buzz louder. “I’m a rrr. R. Rulebreaker!”

Ocura laughs, beaming at Shasria. “Nobody told me the stutterer took over the job of joker once you got fired. Glad the court has a new jester now!”

“Their first choice was galavanting with Griffins,” Shasria hisses out.

“Like you’ve ever met a Griffin, dungeon queen.”

“Call me dungeon queen one more time, you larvae!”

“Dungeon qu-”

“WOULD YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP?!”

Both of them freeze and jolt, staring at Swille, startled. He closes his eyes tightly, blinking the tears away. He knows it’s wrong to cry so publicly, but he has feelings that need to get out, now. “I’m scared! I’m scared and confused and I have to talk fast because the gods only know how long this will last, but I need to speak my mind while I can, and my mind says that you two need to stop!”

He opens his eyes again and glares at them both. They’re still stunned. “You used to be friends! You used to laugh at good jokes, Ocura! You used to make the jokes, Shasria! We didn’t insult each other, we didn’t hate each other! I don’t hate either of you! I don’t hate anyone! I b-break the rules just so I can make sure everyone is satisfied, just so everything is better! You two get to sit here and bicker, but what about me?! D-DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER MY NAME?!”

It’s still after his shouting. He whimpers and wipes at his face with his hoof, distressed and trying his best to calm down. He sits and just breathes. The two changelings regard him with newfound light. They’ve never heard him like that in the past - other than, perhaps, when directing orders to his builders.

“Swille,” Ocura finally says softly. “Of course I remember your name.”

“You’re my hatchmate.” Shasria looks away, a pale flush just barely tinting her cheeks. “How could I ever forget?”

Swille sniffs. “We’re all hatchmates,” he mumbles. He shifts to himself, just… not as weepy. He doesn’t like them seeing him like this. “Shasria? You… asked me. How I changed. I… I lied. I d-did.”

“Oh?”

“I lost my only friends.”

There’s a bit more silence before Ocura sighs and rubs his face. “Look. The council is gathering us because the Queen needs our help.” Shasria opens her mouth for some scathing reply, but Ocura gives her a look along with a headlong nod towards Swille. Shasira closes her mouth. “The Queen went off radar. Hasn’t been heard from in way too long. The council can’t reach her, so they’re gathering as many of her hatchmates as possible in the hopes that we can boost the signal.”

“W… Will that work? Even w-with us missing so many?”

“Well, we’ll have the four of us.”

Shasria looks up sharply at Ocura. “What do you mean?” she asks him, her voice growing colder.

Ocura sheepishly smiles. “Woops. Might’ve picked up another traitor on the way here?”

Swille’s eyes widen and he stands taller, gasping. “The traitor. You mean-”

The door opens and Maskra cries out as he’s shoved inside. He’s chained, similarly to Shasira, but the chains simply bind his wings and hooves. He shakes his head, which is bruised in places from the poor handling. He blinks as the other three stare at him in shock before sighing heavily.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this place?”

Swille wordlessly hugs him as tightly as possible when your best friend is chained up.

“A traitor, a disgrace, a loyal dog, and a nobody.” Shasria scoffs. “What use could we be to Chrysalis?”

“Oh gods. I have a lot to fill you three in on. Swille, stop hugging me, it’s okay, I’m real. Shasria, take the pole out of your behind. Ocura, please, stop pretending to look like you didn’t hear this whole spiel already. Time to tell you all a fairy tale.”

*~*~*~

Tskari paces the length of the room he has been provided for the night, unable to calm his restless nerves. He curses himself; he had been so sure of himself when he first came to this castle, but now, everything feels so much less certain.

When he came here, he had been a retired general. Someone of power, who had served under two different hive queens, who had been respected and revered. He had been certain of his love for her, and certain of who she had been. Now…

Now he doesn’t know anything anymore.

He doesn’t know what else Velouri lied to him about. He isn’t sure what is truth and what is lie. What more has his love hidden from him?

“She didn’t love you back,” he reminds himself. And he’s right in that fact - Velouri had never loved him back. It is a sore subject, but one that he came to terms with long, long ago. The hatching of her clutch had helped sooth his nerves, surprisingly.

He still remembers when those hatchlings first emerged. The Queen’s Clutch. The clutch that hatches the next queen is universally regarded as powerful, changelings who will go far in their lives. Always, that appeared to be the case.

But now he knows just how special those six truly are. Well. Five.

Maskra, Swille, Ocura, Shasria, and Chrysalis. A traitor, an architect, an infiltrator, a disgrace, and a dying Queen.

“You all just had to go and be different,” he says with a sigh. He glances again at the bed but immediately ignores it once again. His mind is racing far too much still to sleep yet. He instead turns and walks to the balcony, shifting to that same pony form he wore when he ran here to speak with the Princesses.

He steps out, feeling the cool air against his fur. The days are growing colder and the sun sets earlier now, keeping the night and day in Balance with each other. He looks up and marvels at the moon and stars enough that his mind finally goes blank.

The night sky is as beautiful here as it was at home. He remembers, still, the stories young changelings are told of the myths of the moon and sun. It is only when they grow older that they learn the truth of the heavenly bodies and how the Ponies rule over them.

Still. He’s always loved the sky at night. The darkness, the chill in his lungs. His eyes trace the constellations and he mouths their names. He breathes out, somewhat in relief.

“Surprised?”

He tenses up and just barely manages to not attack the mare as she lands next to him. “Don’t you have a job to be doing?” He asks as his heartbeat slows.

Luna shrugs. “A few minutes in the real world will do me well. Besides. Not all of my subjects are asleep for me to aid. Some spend their nights staring aimlessly at the sky, searching for answers.”

Tskari huffs and looks back up. He holds back a retort about not being one of her subjects. There is certainly a weighty tension in the air now, but…

“Surprised about what?”

“The sky. They’re-“

“The same stars,” Tskari finishes. Luna glances at him. “You’re right. It… it is surprising, when you really stop and think. These are the same stars that are above our world. The same moon I see in the Changeling Hives is… yours.”

“I do not own the moon.”

“Yeah. Just a single bit of prime real estate.”

Luna snorts and Tskari smiles. “Not the best, if I must say. Dusty, perhaps.”

Tskari blinks and looks at her finally, never to mention that the look holds high regard. “You… really were up there. It’s disturbing to think about.”

“More disturbing to think about the repercussions of all of the actions that led me there. I isolated myself from the world, and thus, I sought for adoration. I wanted them all to bow to me, rather than her. In the end, I was punished with the one thing I loathed the most.”

“Loneliness.” Luna is silent as she watches the moon. Tskari looks at it now in a new light. “... Ponies. Changelings… we really aren’t so different.”

“I’m afraid I must beg to differ.” He can feel her distaste leaking through now, but also… She came here of her own free will. Somewhere, deep inside, he can taste her hope.

“It’ll be weird to see a pony princess beg.” Surprise. He laughs a little. “Sure, I have these powers that let me understand your emotions. But any empathic pony can do the same. And you’ve got unicorns and pegasi and magic, but we’ve got magic too.”

“I fail to see your point?”

“The thing that makes us the same isn’t who we are. It’s what we’re all looking for.”

“And that is?”

“Love.” He scrunches up his nose. “No. More than that. Love in… in its purest form. The love that is unconditional, that is there through. Everything. And it’s often the hardest to come by. And we can fool ourselves into thinking other forms of love are what we’re looking for, like. Well. Like me and my queen, or you and the ponies you tried to make bow to you.”

Resentment. Guilt. But, again, deep down - acceptance. Hope. And curiosity.

He smiles a little more, gesturing to the moon. “The thing that trapped you there was the same thing that sent Chrysalis flying during the invasion.”

“Love? I don’t-“

“What? No. A magic spell.” Luna blinks and Tskari shakes his head. “See, love might have broken the spell on Shining Armor, but it didn’t send us flying. His shield spell, enhanced by love, did that. And Celestia certainly didn’t send you up there out of love. Do you honestly think love could do something that horrible?” Doubt.

He walks back into the room, feeling much more relaxed now that he’s worked out some of his thoughts. Luna follows, frowning. “Then what, pray tell, does love in its truest form have to do with the mistakes of our pasts?”

“Simple. It’s the thing that brought us back.” Luna blinks and Tskari can see some of the flickers of understanding in her eyes. “You came back to seek what you thought was love, but you got something different, right?”

“I…” She walks closer and nods, sitting with him on the bed. “I did. I was… It’s hard to describe. But Twilight used the elements of harmony with her friends, and the darkness that clouded me was gone. It took me so long to recover from that time, but… I am here, no, perhaps not healed of the past, but better.”

“That right there is the love I’m talking about. Celestia didn’t abandon you. Twilight and her friends still…” He stamps his hoof into the bed with a beaming smile. “That’s the word I’m looking for. The purest kind of love. Support. They supported you. And they still do.”

Luna smiles. “You are a very odd changeling.”

“I get that a lot. You’re a pretty odd alicorn. I think were things different between our races, me and you might actually have been friends.”

“Then it is good that things are changing.”

Tskari smiles and nods. “With a little support? Definitely.” He sighs a little and rests his head, yawning as the exhaustion of the day finally breaks through his tense thoughts. “I just hope it’s enough to change Chrysie. Maybe to change us all.”

Luna regards him gently, with no lack of budding respect. As his eyes close, her horn lights with magic, sending him into a deep, restful sleep. “As do I,” she mumbles softly. “For all our sakes.”


End file.
